To Live and Die in LA
by Magneto1X
Summary: Three years ago, Tina married, but her husband was not Al Calavicci.  Now, Sam leaps into a teenaged version of her husband, in the effort to save a troubled young man.  Complications ensue.
1. Chapter 1

(Author's notes: Project Quantum Leap and all associated characters – Al, Sam, Gooshie, Tina, Verbena, and Ziggy—are the property of Donald P. Bellisario Productions. I am only borrowing them. All other characters are my own. A clarification for QL fans:

This story presupposes that the events of "Mirror Image" did **not** take place. Therefore, Sam is still leaping and Al did **not** get back together with Beth. In the years since, both Al and Tina have married, but not to each other. It also contains references to events which were part of a non QL fiction list some years ago. Anyone having questions about that please feel free to contact me)

To Live and Die in LA

Chapter One

November 1, 2007

The Calavicci quarters

Project Quantum Leap

0320 hours/3:20 am, MST

The beeping from the intercom woke Al first. "Damn it, not now, Ziggy!" he murmured. Not only was it the middle of the night, but he'd wanted to spend the next day with Mary and his family. The fact that the alarm was going off at this hour, Al knew far too well, could mean only one thing.

"I cannot help it, Admiral," purred the computer. "The probability that Doctor Beckett will leap within the next hour has jumped to 95. In such a situation, I am programmed to inform you of..."

"Yes, yes, I know that!" Al waved an impatient hand to cut the computer off, even as he began scrambling out of bed. While he was doing that, Mary stirred, awakened by the conversation and Al's movement.

"Al?" she asked, sitting up as she watched him getting dressed. She had a pretty good idea what was happening. After all the years she'd lived here at the Project, she was quite well used to these interruptions coming at any hour of the day or night.

"Sorry, Mary. I didn't mean to wake you up. But Sam's about to leap, and you do know what that means," Al said.

Mary nodded. "I know. You go and take care of Sam now, and don't worry, I'll explain things to the children when they wake up later." She reached up and hugged him, a hug which he returned tenderly and added a kiss for good measure.

"I'll try to get back home as soon as I can, Mary. I promise. Would you please tell the kids that, too, all right?"

"I know you will, Al." she smiled. "We've done this how many times before, after all." she added, not in the least bit accusing, her words were merely a statement of the facts. "Trudy and Sammy both understand how important your helping Sam is." The only reason she didn't mention Austin, was that he was only two, and not old enough yet to have had his father's frequent absences explained to him.

Once he had finished getting ready, Al hurried down to the Control Room. When he got there, he found that Tina and Gooshie were already at their workstations, and Verbena also stood close by, waiting for her cue.

Then it was just a question of their monitoring until the leap actually occurred, which it did, less than an hour later.

Gooshie and Tina immediately set to work trying to get a fix on Sam's location, with Ziggy's help, while Al waited for their signal. When that came, Al knew he'd have to go into the Imaging Chamber and attempt to make contact with Sam. This was something he'd done so many times it had become a routine; though in another way, no leap was exactly like any other. Every situation, each set of circumstances, was different, and not every eventuality could always be predicted accurately, even with Ziggy's best efforts to supply Al with all the available data.

Elsewhere and Elsewhen...

The all too familiar blue haze enveloped Sam Beckett, and he found himself falling through the void. Then, it was gone, and once again he had solid ground under his feet. But where was he, and even more importantly, when?

He looked around, trying to orient himself, to get some idea of his surroundings, and of what, exactly, the situation was.

He was in an alley between two rather decayed looking, rundown, and quite probably abandoned buildings. The few windows he could see from where he stood were all boarded up, adding to the general air of seediness, as did the debris littering the ground.

He was in a city, then. But which one? Quite a few of the larger US cities had rundown areas such as this, Sam knew that only too well.

In front of him stood a dark haired boy. Sam guessed him to be in his mid,teens, and wearing blue jeans, sneakers, a t shirt, and a black leather jacket. "Shawn, look, don't give me a hard time about this, okay?"

A hard time about what? Sam wondered. He was supposed to be 'Shawn" that much was obvious, but there was, as usual in the first few minutes after a leap, still far too much he didn't know. He'd have to string along until Al showed up.

Trying to think of what he should say or do, he looked around again,,and that was when he saw what lay on the ground between himself and the other boy. A small plastic bag, containing some sort of white powder.

That couldn't be what he thought it was, could it? There may have been gaps in his swiss cheesed memory, but he hadn't forgotten his medical background. "Oh, boy." Sam muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. If that was, as he suspected, something illegal, this wasn't a good sign for this leap at all.

Not sure of what else he could do, Sam reached for the bag, intending to dispose of it somehow, but the other boy was too fast for him and snatched it up before he could get it. The boy quickly stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket..

However, Sam wasn't an MD for nothing, and the brief glimpse that he'd had of the bag's contents had been enough for him to make a good guess as to what it probably was. "If that's what I think it is, that stuff's no good for you." he said.

"And I just told you, don't give me a hard time about it!" the other boy retorted. "Now, I said you could stay at my place, and you can, but I don't need lecturing. You don't know anything about this till you've tried it, you got that?"

"I don't need to try it to know what it is, that it's no good at all for anybody." Sam replied with a sigh. Every medical instinct he had was screaming at him to get that stuff away from the kid,,but he also knew pushing now would only drive the boy away and cost Sam any chance whatsoever of helping him. Besides, he still didn't know enough about what was going on here, but since Al hadn't yet appeared, he decided the best thing to do for now was stay with this boy. It'd at least give him a chance to try again to get through to him. Somehow he simply had to stop this boy from doing this to himself.

November 1, 2007

Project Quantum Leap Control Room

0445 hours/4:45 am

Al paced back and forth, while Gooshie and Tina continued working busily to get the information on Sam's location.

"We've got Sam's location." Gooshie finally said. "He's in 1988. June 15, to be exact. Los Angeles, California. But..." He broke off, and a strange expression came over his face. He looked from Al to Tina, back to Al, to the computer screen, then back to Tina, and then to Al again. "There's, um, a, a complication..."

"What?" Tina demanded. She had noticed Gooshie's staring at her, and wondered what could have gotten into the man all of a sudden.

"Out with it, Gooshie, now. Is Sam all right?" Al asked.

"I...that is..." Gooshie fumbled, "I mean, yes, he's all right. We don't show that he's in any danger, if that's what you mean." those words came out in a rush, then he broke off again. "It's just that...well..." his eyes once again darted between Al and Tina. "Um...that is...he's.."

That wasn't like Gooshie at all, Al thought. What could possibly have happened? "Come on," Al growled, starting to worry that Sam was in some sort of trouble already. Gooshie suddenly seeming to have developed a speech impediment just in the last five minutes, didn't strike Al as a good sign at all.

"What he is trying to keep from telling you, Admiral," Ziggy cut in, "is that I have identified the person my father has leaped into. And that is a thirteen year old boy named..." She paused.

"Come on, you collection of junked spare parts!" Al growled. Ziggy had a tendency to be dramatic at the most annoying times!

"Really, Admiral, there is no need to be insulting." the parallel hybrid computer replied reprovingly, a faintly miffed tone entering 'her' voice.

For a computer which claimed not to experience emotion, Ziggy could behave quite emotionally, Al thought exasperatedly. Why Sam had ever programmed her with Barbara Streisand's ego he never would understand. "Just tell us, damn it!" Al snapped.

"Oh, very well, Admiral, since you insist." came the reply. "It is Shawn Catlin."

On hearing that name, Tina's mouth fell open. She stared up at the blue sphere that was Ziggy, with an expression of shock on her face.

"Oh, boy." murmured Al. Leaps that involved anyone who was connected to the Project were always complicated. "Beeks!"

"I'm on my way." Verbena replied, hurrying towards the exit to the Waiting Room. If that was a teenaged Shawn in there...she shook her head. She'd really have to be doubly careful to not reveal too much, she told herself as the Control Room door closed behind her.

"Shawn??" Tina cried out, as she came out of her momentary freeze and raced to follow Verbena out.

"Tina, no! Wait!" But she was already out the door, running towards the Waiting Room, before Al could stop her. Damn it, the problems were starting already! "Gooshie, you and Ziggy get as much information as you can. I'll go to Sam as soon as I make sure Tina's okay." He hoped he'd be able to stop her before she got into the Waiting Room and caused potential complications with the newly arrived Visitor.

"Yes, Admiral." Gooshie said, and he bent over his console as Al hurried out after Tina.

The Waiting Room, Project Quantum Leap

Shawn sat up, shaking his head to try and clear out the fog. Where was he?

A room, with plain white walls, floor, ceiling, and he was on a metal table. Could this be a hospital? If it was, why was he here? He moved, felt himself, but didn't feel any pain or see any signs that he'd been hurt.

Wait, he wasn't alone. There was a woman sitting in a chair beside him, but she was not his mother. This woman was black and looked, he guessed thirtyish.

"Who're you? And is this a hospital?" he asked. Maybe she was a doctor or a nurse; but no, she wasn't wearing white or even blue scrubs.

"No, this isn't a hospital. I'm a doctor, but I'm not an MD." she said. "You're all right, okay? No one's going to hurt you, that's not why you're here." she added reassuringly.

"Then why am I here, wherever here is?"

"I'm hoping that between us both, we can figure that out," she replied. "What we need from you is some information. There's a friend of ours who's..." Verbena paused, thinking out how she could best explain things to Shawn without giving away too much, "in trouble and you can help him, and us, at the same time."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Shawn demanded.

"What's the last thing you can remember?"

Shawn paused, trying to think. The fuzziness he'd woken up to was still there. "I,,I'm not sure," he said after a moment. "I think...I'd left school and..." he tried to concentrate, to fill in the gap...but the information wouldn't come. "I don't remember anything after that!" he cried.

"It's all right," the woman said reassuringly. "Don't try to force it, it'll come back to you eventually. Just tell me anything you can easily remember. Anything you're comfortable with telling me about yourself, that is."

"I don't understand this. Who's this friend of yours, and how can I help him??"

Verbena paused, thinking of how best she could come up with an answer to that question. She couldn't give him too much information, but she also knew he'd be more cooperative if she could tell him something. "I'll tell you as much as I'm allowed to, all right?" she said after a moment. "What I can tell you, to begin with, is that the sooner you can tell us something about you, the sooner he'll be able to do what he needs to do there, and the sooner you'll be able to go back."

"Um, okay..." Shawn murmured, still very confused by this entire situation.

Before he could think of what he could ask next, though, there was an interruption. The door slid open and another woman entered. This one was thirtyish also, but white, with reddish,blonde hair and green eyes. "Shawn??" she cried out, staring at him with the weirdest look on her face. "Darling!"

Shawn just stared back at her. He'd never seen this woman before in his life, he was sure of that, even with the scramble his memories seemed to be in right now. Yet, here she was acting like she knew him.

"Tina, no!" the dark skinned woman said, standing up and moving to get between Shawn and the new arrival. "You shouldn't be in here, you know that."

The redhead, whose name Shawn now knew was Tina, stared at Shawn for a moment longer, then sighed, her cheeks turning as red as her hair. She was quite clearly embarrassed, Shawn could guess that much. "I know, but when Ziggy said...I just had to see..." she broke off, looking down at the floor, unable to meet Verbena's eyes.

"It's all right, Tina, but you ought to go now, before anythiing else happens. You know I'll have to mention this to Al, and you also know that Al is going to have a fit about this."

Shawn watched this exchange and understood none of it. But now that he'd gotten a good look at "Tina", he found himself smiling in spite of everything he still didn't know about what was going on here.

Tina nodded and left. The other woman smiled and turned back to Shawn as the door closed behind Tina.

After a moment, Shawn found himself smiling back at her. "She's cute for an old lady," he said.

Verbena chuckled. Oh, she'd have to be sure to tell Tina about that later, she thought. It'd definitely be something that would make her laugh. For now, though, she had to concentrate on Shawn, and getting as much information from him as she could.

"But how did she know my name?" Shawn asked.

Verbena had to quickly scramble to come up with a plausible answer. "Maybe you, um, reminded her of someone she knows." That wasn't exactly a lie, but it was as close as she could risk coming to what was really going on, here without revealing too much.

"If you say so," Shawn murmured, nodding. He had to admit that that at least made some sense. He supposed it was possible.

In the corridor outside the Waiting Room...

Al reached the Waiting Room just in time to see Tina coming out. He wasted no time with pleasantries, but hurried over to her. "What were you thinking, Tina?" he demanded. "You know the rules better than this."

Tina nodded, "I know. I just heard Ziggy say Shawn and I just..." she shook her head.

"That's not Shawn in there, Tina. He's not the one you, we, know, anyway." Al said firmly. "That's a thirteen year old boy who doesn't know you, or any of us. We're all thirteen years in his future. It's only 1988 for him, and he didn't meet any of us until 2001, remember?"

"I, I know that..." she said contritely, wiping a tear away. "I'm sorry, Al, this isn't going to happen again. I promise."

Al put a hand on her arm. "It's all right, Tina." He found himself chuckling in spite of the seriousness of the entire situation. "I don't really know if I could've kept my cool either, if Ziggy had told us that that was Mary in there."

Tina managed a weak smile too. "I knew you'd understand." she said.

Al looked at her for a moment, a concerned expression on his face. "Do you think you'll be up to going back to work right now, or do you want to take a break? Gooshie can handle things for a little while, if you need a few minutes."

"I...I'm going to be okay." Tina smiled again, "really."

"If you're sure." Al said, "There's one more thing, Tina. And that is, you can't tell Shawn about this either. Your Shawn, I mean."

Tina shook her head. "I know that. He won't ask, though, he knows there's things about my work I can't discuss with anyone who isn't Project staff."

"I'm sure he does know that, Tina. After all, he's been around you and this place for how many years now? But I had to say it anyway." Al replied. "I'm going in to see Sam now, and hopefully we'll sort this out, and get teenaged Shawn back to his life as soon as we can."

"OK," Tina said. "And Al...thanks." With that, she hurried off to return to the Control Room.

Al waited a moment, until she was out of sight, then stepped into the Imaging Chamber.

"Gooshie...center me on Sam."


	2. Chapter 2

June 15, 1988

Los Angeles, California

Sam had ended up following the boy to an apartment building in the same seedy, rundown neighborhood, to a room on the third floor. "So this's where you live?" Sam asked, still trying to string things along until Al appeared. That seemed to be taking way too long, he thought, or maybe he was just getting impatient. Either way, he hoped Al would show up before too much longer. He had to know more about what was going on here than he did right now, that was for sure, otherwise he'd be stuck winging it trying to figure out what he was supposed to do in this time and place. Something told him this boy was involved, but he didn't dare assume too much without confirmation from Al.

"Yeah," the other boy, whose name Sam still didn't know, replied. "Me and my uncle, at least when he's here. It's just the two of us, like it's just two of you with you and your mom."

So this Shawn had a mother somewhere, Sam thought. Where was she, and why wasn't Shawn with her? He hoped Al would have those answers before too much longer, he wasn't sure how long he could keep up the playacting without more data. And what had the boy meant about his uncle 'at least when he's here'? That didn't sound right, but Sam wasn't sure if he should ask, that might be something Shawn already knew.

"Oh, sorry, I guess I shouldn't've said that." the other boy said, mistaking what he thought was Shawn's silence for a sign that 'Shawn' was upset by the mention of his mother.

Sam hadn't said anything by way of a reaction to Kyle's mentioning Shawn's mother, simply because he wasn't sure what the right thing to say was. "Um, don't worry about it." he said after a moment or two, hoping he wasn't making a mistake in terms of keeping up the pretense that he was Shawn. It never was easy when he didn't know how the person he was supposed to be was supposed to act in a given situation.

The other boy sighed. "Okay, no problem," he managed a brief smile, then yawned. "Well, anyway, I'm going to crash for a while," he nodded towards one of the doors opening off this room. "so you can take that room over there, or sit out here and watch tv. If you want to play some music, the radio's over there,,and the stereo, too. If you want to get something to eat, help yourself, the kitchen's that way." he waved a hand to indicate the direction.

"OK, and um, thanks again." Sam said. He was still worried about the packet of drugs the other boy had on him, but hadn't yet come up with a way to get it away from him, short of outright asking for it, which he was pretty sure wouldn't get him very far at all. The boy might misinterpret that as 'Shawn's' wanting to try the stuff, and that was the last impression Sam wanted to give.

"You're welcome, but it's okay." With that, the other boy left the room.

Sam sat down on the couch. "Al...now would be a very good time..." he said under his breath, not really sure that that would have any effect, but what else could he do?

However, as if those words had been some sort of cue, the door that the other boy had indicated was the kitchen suddenly changed, becoming a glowing white rectangle through which Al Calavicci stepped, the familiar multicolored lights of the handlink clutched tightly in his right hand.

"It's about time, Al." Sam said, keeping his voice low so as not to risk attracting the attention of the other boy in the next room.

"Sorry, Sam. Beeks has been trying to get some information, but this kid's still a bit swiss cheesed. You know how it is right after a leap, for them as much as it is for you."

Sam nodded. "What can you tell me? Anything at all, Al. I've been winging it for the last hour or two."

"Your name is Shawn Catlin. Today is June 15, 1988, and you're in Los Angeles."

Sam nodded. Now he had a full name, and what Al had just said confirmed the date, which he'd already seen in an LA Times newspaper in a rack they'd passed on the way here. He needed more than that; however, he knew Al would tell him everything he could as soon as he had the information.

"You're thirteen years old. You just turned 13 on May 24. According to the records you ran away from home today, and didn't go back to your mother's place after school."

That explained why Shawn was in this apartment, Sam thought, though not what exactly had happened with Shawn and his mother, that being the only parent Al had mentioned so far, to make him run away in the first place. Sam was certain, however, that he would find out about that soon enough. "What else can you tell me about that, and what about this place?" Sam waved to indicate the room they were in. "Who's the kid who's probably getting stoned in there?" pointing towards the bedroom Kyle now occupied. "How do I, or Shawn, rather, know him?"

"We're still trying to find out what the situation is with Shawn and his mother," Al replied. "Shirlee Catlin is her name, and the, um, records show she's a single mother." Al paused. He knew Shirlee personally, but couldn't tell Sam that without breaking the rules, one of which specified that they were not to give Sam any more information about the future, which was to say their present, than absolutely necessary. No, it was better for him to wait until Verbena was able to get more information from the teenaged Shawn before going on about that subject. "As for the kid, his name's Kyle Jennings. He goes to school with Shawn. Ziggy's been able to confirm that by checking LA County school records for 1988." was Al's response. "Like I said, today's June 15. On June 19, the police raid an abandoned building on suspicion of drug activity. Kyle's found dead inside, apparently OD'd."

"Oh, boy. So I'm supposed to stop him from getting himself killed." Sam said. Something was telling him that that was going to be easier said than done. "What about Shawn? He's not into doing that stuff too, is he?" Sam didn't think so, but the question had to be asked, just to be on the safe side. He glanced down at Shawn's arms, but saw no sign of injection marks.

"No, Shawn's definitely not a user himself, we're pretty sure of that." Al replied. "The Los Angeles police records Ziggy's accessed for that date say he was found unconscious next to Kyle's body but was clean when the doctors checked him out."

"Well, that's a relief." Sam said, though he'd already guessed Shawn wasn't a drug user himself, from what the boy he now knew was Kyle had told him earlier today.

"Beeks is going to keep working on the kid, I mean Shawn." Al continued. "so I'll be able to tell you more about him and this whole situation soon. You know we'll get as much information for you as soon as we can."

Sam nodded. "I know. I'll take whatever I can get that will help me get through to Kyle. " He sighed. "I'll never understand why people want to do this to themselves, it's nothing more than putting poison into their bodies. Especially someone this young who's got their whole life ahead of them."

"You'll do it," Al said encouragingly. "You got through to me, remember?" He smiled ruefully. "Ok, so I wasn't a teenager on drugs, but comes to the same thing."

"Right."

"I've got to go, but I'll be back as soon as we can get something. Hang in there." The "door" opened again and Al stepped through, vanishing from Sam's view.

"I'll do that," Sam muttered, even as Al disappeared back through the door. Sam sat back on the couch. This was definitely going to be a rough leap, he could see that. Some leaps were harder to work out than others; this one was already showing signs of being in the difficult category, and it had barely begun.

Project Quantum Leap, the present

The Waiting Room

The doctor, or whatever she was, had left a while ago, saying she was going to let him get some rest. Shawn hoped she'd be back soon. This was just an empty room, there wasn't anything to do in here. There weren't even any windows that he could look out of; a view of something, even if it was only city streets, would be better than these bare white walls. There weren't even any pictures or other decorations to break the monotony of endless plain whiteness.

He'd gotten tired of sitting on the metal table, and tried walking around the room. But you could only circle an empty room so many times before that got blah, too.

There wasn't even a clock in here, and he didn't have a watch or any of his own clothes, just this weird white bodysuit, so he had no way of telling how long he'd been in this strange place. It felt like hours, but he couldn't be certain.

His memories were still somewhat jumbled, but some things were coming clearer now. He remembered why it was that he'd left home in the first place, and what he'd done that had led to his leaving. Out of desperation, he'd tried to do that again, but that didn't seem to be working in here. He didn't know why; however, part of him was relieved in a way. Maybe it wouldn't come back, at least he hoped it wouldn't.

He walked back over to the table, intending to sit down. After all, what else was there to do in here? Absolutely nothing, that's what.

As he reached it, though, he realized two things. One, the surface was reflective. And two, the face it was showing him was very definitely not his own. "What the blazes??" he exclaimed, reaching up to touch it , as if by doing so he could convince himself he wasn't just seeing things.

The face was that of a grownup. Much older than Shawn himself was; thirtyish, would be his guess. What did this mean? He was really scared now. That doctor had said they weren't here to hurt him, but she hadn't told him about this! More confused and frightened than he'd already been, and not knowing what else to do, he ran to the door and began banging on it. "Please! Let me out!" he cried.

Verbena Beeks' office...

"Doctor.." The computer's voice interrupted Verbena as she was going through her notes on this latest leap and the current Visitor.

"What is it, Ziggy?"

"It might be a good idea if you returned to the Waiting Room." Ziggy purred. "Our 'guest' is becoming quite hysterical; really, you humans are so overly emotional, Doctor. If he continues with this behavior, he may do himself some injury. That is still my father's body, and I cannot permit harm to come to him. To prevent that from happening, I shall be forced to flood the room with anesthesia gas."

"Wait just one minute, please! If you do that, Ziggy, then we'd have to wait until it wore off before I'd be able to get any more information about his situation." Verbena said as she hurried out of her office. "Let me try and talk to him before you do that."

"As you wish, Doctor Beeks." Ziggy replied. "I concur with your assessment. If I am forced to put our guest to sleep, it will, of course, delay the process of your getting information from him, and that, in turn, would unnecessarily complicate the Admiral's efforts to assist my father. That is the only reason I will defer taking such an action unless the Visitor's behavior leaves me no other alternatives."

"That's fine." Verbena murmured as she hurried through the Project to the Waiting Room.

When Verbena reached the door to the Waiting Room, she could hear the shouting and banging from inside. The two Marine guards stationed on either side of the door were exchanging worried looks. They could hear the racket, but they also knew they weren't supposed to enter the room without having been specifically ordered to do so. "Thank goodness you're here, Doctor Beeks." one said. "We were just about to call you. He's making enough noise in there to wake the dead."

"It's okay, I'll handle this." Verbena replied. "Ziggy, unlock the door for me. You two, be ready just in case he tries to get out."

The two Marines nodded.

"Yes, Doctor," came the computer's response.

The two Marines braced themselves, as Verbena had instructed them, just in case the Visitor decided to try and make a run for it. With the noise he was making, his doing that was quite possible.

When the door slid open, Shawn took a step forward, then paused on seeing Verbena. Staring at her, he demanded. "What's going on,,this isn't me!"

"I know. Please, try and relax, we'll talk about it. Can you let me do that?" she said soothingly, stepping in front of Shawn to block any attempt he might make to escape.

"I just want to know what's happening!" Shawn cried. "I wake up in this crazy place and I'm not even myself anymore!!"

The face she was looking at might have been Sam's, but the voice was that of a frightened boy.

"I'll tell you as much as I can, Shawn. Please, calm down, and let's sit down over here." she urged, indicating the chair she'd used earlier, when Shawn had first awakened in this room.

After a moment, he nodded, uncertainly, and backed away from the door so that she could enter. Verbena allowed herself a slight sigh of relief as the door closed. At least Shawn hadn't gotten out;that would've caused even more complications. They didn't need a repeat of what had happened that other time, when the Visitor had actually made it out of the Project complex before they'd managed to catch him.

"What's going on here?" Shawn asked again once he'd sat down on the table, with Verbena once again seated facing him. "What's outside that door, anyway, the USS Enterprise? Who exactly are you people, and what have you gotten me into here, some sort of crazy mix of 'Star Trek' meets 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers', is that what this is?"

"No, it's not either of those," Verbena replied. "Not anything like either of them." She paused, thinking how best to explain, at least as much of this as the rules permitted her to. "Remember what I said earlier about that friend of ours?"

Shawn nodded. "I get it now. I'm him. But doesn't that mean...well, doesn't that mean, he's, um, me?"

"That's exactly right. But it's only going to be for a little while. Sam's trying to fix something that once went wrong in your life. You told me earlier about your friend Kyle, that he was in some kind of trouble. Sam's trying to help him, and the only way he can is as you. That's why I have to know as much as I can about you. Sam will help Kyle, and I can help you, but you've got to work with me for either of those things to happen." Verbena said.

Shawn nodded. "I understand, I think." though he wasn't too sure of that.

Verbena smiled. "That's good." At least he was trying to work with her, which was a good sign. "Shawn, there's some things we still don't know. It's up to you if you want to talk about it. But like I said, anything at all that you can tell us will help Sam." She paused. "We know that you ran away from home, but we don't know why. What about your m,," she caught herself, she'd almost said 'mother'. And this Shawn didn't know and mustn't find out that she knew his future adult self, or anything about him. "your parents?"

Besides, this was a part of the adult Shawn's past she didn't know a lot of the details about, and this might shed a good deal of light on exactly why the teenaged Shawn had been with Kyle at the time Sam had leaped into Shawn. That information would help Sam deal with Kyle in 1988, Verbena knew.

"I don't have 'parents', not the way you mean, a mom and dad." Shawn snapped. "There's just my mother." He took a deep breath. "Somewhere there's a bastard who'd call himself my father, if he knew I existed, but he doesn't. And he doesn't deserve to." Another deep breath. "You want to know about my mother..." Shawn's expression and voice softened, the anger being replaced by bitterness, sadness. "She's better off without me."

Verbena sighed. She had a pretty good idea where that last comment had come from, from knowing the present day, adult, Shawn. But she couldn't let this Shawn know that, she'd have to pretend ignorance to draw him out. "What makes you say that?" she asked, that being the safest way she could keep him talking without revealing too much.

"I found out what happened to her." Shawn said after a moment, looking down at the floor. "How she'd ended up...having me." He paused, then looked at Verbena again. "She used to work for this creep. And he,,he wanted her to...well, you know. When she wouldn't...he made her."

Verbena could only nod. "You're saying that he raped your mother," she said softly, doing her best to make the brutal words as gentle as anyone possibly could. She had to help teenaged Shawn deal with this, she knew, and all without letting on she had already heard about these events, some years before, from both Shirlee and the adult Shawn. This was a line she would have to walk carefully; the wrong thing said could have dangerous consequences.

He nodded. "That's not the worst of it, though." Another pause. "Do you know that I've never seen my mother run, or jump, or well, just about anything, I mean physical stuff." he said, the sadness coming through even more clearly now. "I don't think I ever will. She can barely walk, she has to use a cane That's what he did, too. When she refused to sleep with him, that last time, he flew into a rage. He didn't just...rape...her, he also beat her so badly it damaged her insides. She said that just having me almost killed her, and that the doctors had told her then that she could never have another kid, even if she'd wanted to. What he'd done messed her up that badly." He took another deep breath. "She's been like that all my life, using a cane and all, but until this, I, I never knew why. She'd never explained and I...didn't think about asking. I thought she'd just been in some accident. Thirteen years I thought that's all it was, why she was the way she was. But now I find out someone did it to her deliberately...!"

Verbena reached out and put a hand on his arm. "I know this is hard for you to understand," she said, trying to be comforting. What she'd heard about this situation from the adult Shawn had been hard enough on him, and he'd had years to deal with it. This Shawn sitting in front of her had only just recently learned of this; and so the pain was new and raw for him. "I know," she said gently, "but absolutely none of this is your fault. I'm sure your mother doesn't blame you. I don't believe for one moment that any real mother would." She kept her voice as soothing and comforting as she could, hoping to relax him.

"That's exactly what she said, too, that it wasn't my fault. You're...right...about that." Shawn said slowly. "But don't you get it? Every time she looks at me, I know that it just reminds her of...of what that bastard did. I don't want to keep doing that to her, just by being there. That's why I...left. I knew I couldn't just stay on the street, so when I talked to Kyle at school that day, he said I could stay with him. That's why I was there, I think I was trying to talk to him, when I ended up here."

Verbena had known from the beginning that this was not going to be easy. Not only did they have to work on helping Sam help Kyle, but she was going to have to find a way to get Shawn to go back to his mother, or history could be changed. Still, she knew pushing that too hard, too soon, would only backfire, work against them. There were such things as unintended consequences, after all; they'd dealt with that sort of thing too many times before for her not to be careful of what she did next in this situation. She decided to try another tack. "Would you mind telling me how you found out all this?" she asked. "Did your mother tell you all of a sudden?"

"Not on her own. She said that she'd always hoped that I'd never have to know. But then something happened, and she had to tell me. And once I'd heard the whole story, then I just knew I had to go. She begged me not to, she was crying so hard, and I was too. But I knew my going away would be best thing for her." Shawn murmured, wiping tears from his eyes. "It'd let her finally forget about him, if I wasn't there."

"It's all right, Shawn," Verbena said gently, "take your time, I know this is hard for you. Can you tell me how it happened?"

Shawn nodded, then took a deep breath. Fighting back the tears, he forced himself to continue. "That's the freaky part of this whole thing, next to being here, that is." Another deep breath followed, then he continued. "We...we've never had a lot, you know. Mother can't work much, it hurts her too much if she has to stay on her feet for too long. There's most of the time been only her disability check from the state for us to live on." He shook his head, then looked down at his hands. "There's this shop I pass on the way home from school every day, that sells musical instruments. And in the window there was this guitar with a big sign next to it. It was a top of the line, an Ibanez Steve Vai JEM. I took one look and damn it I wanted it so bad..." he closed his eyes. "But...it was like two thousand dollars. There was no way. Mother...she cried when I told her. I knew she wanted me to have it as much as I did, she was sad she couldn't get it for me." Shawn was fighting to not cry too, if he did he'd never get through this.

"It's okay, Shawn." Verbena took a mini,pack of Kleenex out of her pocket and handed it to Shawn, silently congratulating herself that she'd thought to bring it in here with her. She'd suspected he might need it before this was over. "Go on, please." she encouraged him gently. She hoped he would be able to continue, he needed to get this out before she could begin helping him to try and deal with it.

"I went back to my room," he made himself continue. "I kept trying not to think about it, that only made things worse. But then..." he took a deep breath. "My head started hurting. I thought it was just a headache at first.. Then I started feeling weird, tingling all over. I didn't know what it was, what was happening. It wasn't over yet, though. Then there was this light, it seemed to be coming out of me, and a moment later, that guitar was sitting right there in my hands, as solid and real as this table is right now." He tapped the table's surface to emphasize his words, then shook his head. "I know it sounds crazy, but that's how it happened."

"I believe you." Verbena said reassuringly. "We've heard all sorts of things here that people on the outside might find hard to believe, so it doesn't surprise me what happened to you." That was a safe response, she thought.

Shawn let out a deep breath, took a sip of Coke. After a few more minutes, he'd calmed down enough to where he was able to make himself go on. "I told Mother what had happened, and how. I showed her the guitar. She started crying, then she took me back to that store. She wanted to see if the other guitar was still there. And it was. That's..." he swallowed, "that's how we figured out what'd happened. Somehow I'd managed to make one exactly like it. Something like those fairy tales where you wish for something and it happens, but this wasn't a fairy tale, this was real." He paused long enough for another sip of Coke, then went on. "She'd wanted to go to that store because she thought I might've just brought it to me, the one that was there I mean, without realizing it."

"I see." Verbena'd known Shawn had first shown signs of magical ability when he was thirteen, but the adult Shawn hadn't ever gone into the details with her of how it had happened, which was what this Shawn was telling her now. She was going to have to help him, and what lay ahead for both of them in doing that would be a rough and bumpy road, emotionally speaking.

"No, you aren't getting it!" Shawn cried, taking her 'I see' as if she was merely going along with whatever he said without really understanding what it meant to him. "Once she'd found out I could do this...this magic, she had to tell me everything. And she did. All about that bastard Tompkins, and everything that he'd done to her. She..she was crying, so hard, she said she'd hoped all these years it wouldn't happen to me...but it did. Tompkins had magic too..don't you understand,that's how I ended up with it." Shawn stared at his hands as if they were something alien, unrecognizable. "They teach us in school about how you inherit your hair or eye color and so on from your parents. Well, I got that and this too!"

"I do understand, Shawn. He had this power, this magic, and he used it to hurt people; and one of the people he hurt most was your mother." Verbena said, as calmly as she could. To Shawn, this would sound like she'd simply put it together from what he had just said, but of course she had known about all of this already.

Shawn stared at her, the mix of emotions clearly showing in his eyes. ""When I go back to being me, I'll have it again! And damn it, I don't want it!" he snapped. "I don't want anything that came from that bastard!! If I knew some way to, to just reach inside and cut it out of me, I'd do it in a minute!"

"It's all right to be angry, Shawn. I do understand, you've every right to be, after what Nathan Tompkins did to your mother. But you're not just angry, I can tell that from your voice. You're afraid, too. You're afraid you'll end up hurting someone, just like he did." Verbena said, soothingly. "But please, let me tell you something. I don't think you will. You want to know how I know?" She smiled reassuringly, again placing a hand on his arm. "Someone who didn't care about others wouldn't be as upset as you are about this." She knew Shawn of the present had always had mixed feelings about his own magical ability, that even now in this time he was still somewhat uncomfortable with it, and that that derived from his strong feelings about Tompkins. And that was the Shawn who'd had years to deal with all these issues; to the Shawn in front of her, this was still too recent, the pain too fresh.

Shawn let out a deep breath and brushed a tear away, but she could clearly see he wasn't yet convinced. "Do me one favor, okay, and at least think about this, please?" she asked, then decided it was time to change the subject. Verbena could see how stressed Shawn was by telling all this, but she also knew it'd help him to get this out. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "Coke? Water? or something else,,we can get pretty much anything you might want, here."

"A Coke would be okay. Maybe that'd help. Thanks." he replied. taking several deep breaths, trying to fight off the urge to cry. He did not want to give in to tears like some little baby!

She got up and opened the door, then spoke to one of the guards outside. A few minutes later, she rejoined Shawn carrying a tray on which were two Cokes, in tall glasses with straws. "I think I'm getting a bit thirsty, too," Verbena said with a smile.

Shawn wiped away another tear then took the drink she offered.

"Do you feel up to talking more, or would you like it if we took a break?" Verbena asked after a few minutes.

Shawn sighed. "I'd like to rest, but..." he looked around, "do I really have to stay in here? I think I'll go nuts if I sit in here much longer."

"Well, I'm sorry, but we can't let you out of this room, that's the rules. But we can bring things in here for you, so you don't have to be bored," Verbena smiled. "What would you like?"

"Some music would be nice. And maybe,,if it's not too much trouble,,could I have a, a guitar?" Shawn looked at his hands. "I don't really know how I did it before, made one appear, but it doesn't seem to be working now. Maybe because I'm not, um, me?"

"That's possible, I guess," Verbena theorized. "As for the music..." she started to say, but was suddenly interrupted.

"I can oblige our guest there," came the voice from apparently nowhere.

Verbena closed her eyes for a moment, counted silently to ten, then opened them again and looked upwards. "Ziggy!" she muttered under her breath.

Shawn did a double take, then looked up, trying to see where the voice had come from. "Who's that?" he asked Verbena.

"That is our computer." Verbena replied. "Her name is Ziggy." She looked up. "And she's going to get a stern talking to in about five minutes."

"Temper, temper, Doctor Beeks." Ziggy retorted. "I was simply attempting to be helpful. Mr. Catlin, if you could tell me what music you would like to hear, I will play it for you."

"Cool!" Shawn exclaimed. A computer that actually had a name, and could play music, too? This was getting more sci fi by the minute, even if he wasn't in some sort of weird 'Star Trek" scenario. "Could you talk to me too?"

"I am quite capable of talking with you, Mr. Catlin, or of providing anything else you might ask for," Ziggy replied, "so long as any such request does not create a conflict with my programming. With a million gigabyte capacity, I am more than capable of rubbing my tummy, patting my head, and doing a trillion floating-point operations all at once." the computer finished haughtily.

"Ok!" Shawn said enthusiastically, "But please, don't call me 'Mr. Catlin'. I'm not some old man. Just call me Shawn, please?" he asked, even as he wondered how a computer could rub or pat anything. Did computers even have tummies? He didn't think so. He wasn't sure just what a gigabyte was, or a 'floating-point operation'. He shrugged. At least it'd be nice to talk to someone, when the Doctor wasn't in here. But wait, since Ziggy was a computer, maybe he should say something?. He paused for a moment and turned back to the doctor. "I sing some, too. Would that be okay, would you like to hear it?" he asked.

Verbena smiled. "Sure, but I've got to go right now. When I come back, you can sing for me then, all right?"

Shawn nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me." he smiled.

Verbena then excused herself, and stepped back out into the corridor. She spent the next few minutes in conversation with the guards, making arrangements for them to bring Shawn some dinner, as well as anything else he might ask for; a guitar, music books, recordings, and whatever else he might want. There were always a large number of things they could supply to keep their Visitors comfortable while they were confined to the Waiting Room. When she'd finished doing that, she looked up at the ceiling again; there was one more thing she had to do before going to see the Admiral. "Ziggy!"

"Yes, Doctor Beeks?"

"Now you know that Admiral Calavicci is not going to be happy! You are not supposed to speak to the Visitors!"

"I am well aware of the rules governing this Project. It was my father who created it, after all." Ziggy replied in an even more miffed than usual tone. "Mr. Catlin is not going to have access to anything inappropriate to his time period. The musical selections I am feeding into the Waiting Room are all songs that were popular in June of 1988, with which he would be quite familiar. Anything else I provide for him will also be appropriate for his timeframe. I do know how to manage these things, Doctor. I should not have to remind you of how many years have I been doing precisely that?"

"I know that, Ziggy. But I am still going to report this to the Admiral." Verbena retorted, and hurried off to do just that; she knew Al would be waiting to get her report, that he needed as much information as she could get in order to help Sam do what he was supposed to in this leap.


	3. Chapter 3

Project Quantum Leap

November 2, 2007

2230 hours/11:30 pm

Shawn and Tina Catlin's quarters

Tina closed the door of Jeffrey's room, as quietly as she could, then made her way down the hall into the living room. When she entered, she found Shawn sitting on the sofa, watching the tv. She came over to sit down beside him. He smiled and put an arm around her. "So how's Jeffrey?" he asked.

"He's gone back to sleep. Finally." she said with a wry smile. "Now he'll be fine, at least for a couple of hours until I have to feed him again." she chuckled. "Don't worry, it'll only be for a few months, you know that. I got AJ through that stage, and we managed with the twins, we'll get through this with Jeffy." She snuggled up against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "What're you watching?" she asked.

"Oh, some movie..." he said, trailing off as he stared at the screen. "Oh damn it no."

"What?" Tina asked.

"Would you look at that?" he said, indicating the screen. "what they're doing?"

The TV showed a group of teenage boys, sitting in a circle in a rather rundown looking room. They were passing around a pipe and what looked like some bags of white powder, which each boy stuffed some of into the pipe before taking a whiff.

"Looks like they're on drugs," Tina said.

Shawn nodded. "Yes." he said, "that's so damn...stupid." He said the last word with an intensity, a level of anger, that shocked Tina. There weren't too many things that got Shawn that riled up.

"It's just a movie," she said, trying to relax him.

"This is, yes," he said, in a softer tone. "I'm sorry, but this just takes me back..." he shook his head.

"To what?" she asked, uncertainly. "I know you never would've done anything like that."

"I didn't, no. I knew that stuff was no good, even when I was a teenager." Shawn replied. "But I saw what that stuff did to other kids. I remember once..." he swallowed. "I never told you about this," he continued, "but I knew someone who...died...that way. A kid I used to go to school with."

Tina's mouth opened, then closed again. That had to be the boy Sam was trying to help on the current leap, as a teenaged Shawn. She couldn't tell the Shawn sitting beside her that, though, so all she said was, "go on."

"It was a month or so after I turned 13." Shawn said. "I'd just found out I could do magic,,and..." he sighed. "Mother told me how it was I'd gotten it. That I'd inherited it from Tompkins" He spat out the name as if it were poison. "And ...and how she'd had me." He shook his head.

"Shawn..." Tina said, putting her hand on his.

"It's taken me quite a few years to get past that," he said quietly. "But back then, the only thing I could think was that having me around kept reminding Mother of that bastard and what he did to her. That she'd be better off without me." Shawn sighed. "I didn't want to stay on the street, though, that wasn't safe. Even then I knew that much. So I asked this kid from school if I could stay with him. Kyle, his name was." He took a deep breath. "That's all I remember of that time. I woke up in a hospital a week later, and they told me he was dead. OD'd on crap like that." he pointed at the movie, which again showed the boys smoking the white powder. "The police got a tip there were drug sales going on in some old rat,trap of a building. They raided the place, and that's when they found Kyle...dead...and at the same time, they found me passed out next to him. The doctors said they didn't think I'd taken any drugs, they'd checked for that, but they were never able to explain why I was out cold. They said I might've found him dead and the shock was what did it."

"That must've been terrible," Tina said softly, not knowing what else she could say. She realized she was going to have to talk to Al about this in the morning, since it had to do with the current leap. She wished she could tell Shawn, but she knew the rules; plus, she'd promised Al that she wouldn't tell Shawn about this, and she was going to keep that promise.

Shawn sighed again. "I can't watch any more of this," he said and clicked the tv off. The memories it was stirring up were just too painful, even after all the years that had gone by since he'd been that thirteen year old boy.

Tina gave Shawn's hand a gentle squeeze. "Shawn, why don't you come on back to bed then, please?" Tina asked, hoping to distract him. "I think I can find something a lot happier for you to think about." she made herself smile, and for good measure winked at him meaningfully.

"That sounds like a very good idea." he said, catching her wink and finding himself responding with a grin. Keeping his arm around her waist, they stood up and walked together back to their bedroom.

The next morning, Al Calavicci's office...

Al had taken time at home to have breakfast with Mary and the kids, then returned to his office to take care of some paperwork. He was trying to get as much done as he could before he had to go and check on Sam again. He hated the endless stream of reports, but if he didn't keep up with them, it would be one more excuse for those nozzles on the Committee to hassle him about. That was a source of frustration he definitely did not need to deal with; not on top of the constant worry about Sam, especially when he was in the middle of a leap, as he was now.

Just as he was finishing up with the motor-pool fuel consumption report for the month of October, which he considered to be one of the most time wasting of the stuff he was forced to wade through, the door chime sounded. "Come in," he called, welcoming the interruption as a way to avoid falling asleep from sheer boredom.

Tina entered and took a seat on the side of the desk opposite Al's. "Al, there's something I need to tell you." She took a deep breath. "Now I know that I said I wouldn't tell Shawn about this leap, and I didn't. But it just so happens that he brought something up on his own last night, something that I realized has to do with this, so I thought you should know."

"What was it?"

"Some movie that he saw part of, while I was taking care of Jeffy." Tina replied. "The bit I saw showed some kids doing drugs. Shawn told me it reminded him about a friend of his who'd died that way, and I recognized the name from what Ziggy told us earlier; it's the boy Sam's trying to save right now."

Al nodded. "Thanks for telling me," he said.

"It wasn't at all easy keeping quiet about this, Al. You know how I feel about keeping secrets from Shawn." Tina said sadly. "We've always been able to be honest and open with each other, and this feels like I'm going against that."

"I know, but it's necessary." Al said firmly.

Tina shook her head. "I know that, Al, but it's still hard." She sighed. "Anyway, that's what I wanted to say, I'll see you in the Control Room."

With that Tina left, and Al resumed working on the pile of reports. For about five minutes, anyway; then the door chime sounded again.

This time, it was Verbena Beeks who entered. "Al, the guards are getting Shawn, the Visitor Shawn, some breakfast. After I've gotten something to eat myself, I'll go in and try to talk to him again. I stopped in to fill you in about yesterday, though. He did talk to me, somewhat."

"Well that's good." Al replied. "But I heard from the guards, and Ziggy, about what happened yesterday afternoon. Damn it, Beeks! If he'd gotten loose, like that other one did, there'd have been hell to pay!"

"He didn't." Verbena said firmly. "That's what's really important here. Al, remember, he's just a kid. not an adult like most of our Visitors have been. That's one of the reasons he lost it, I'm sure. However," she said, determined to reassure Al, "I did manage to get him settled down, and I really don't think he'll go hysterical on us again." She paused. "There is, though, something else you should know. I'd asked Shawn if there was anything we could bring in for him. He'd asked for some music, and a guitar. I've already made arrangements for that last. But when I was asking Shawn about what music he would like..." She paused and looked meaningfully upwards. "Let me put it this way; a certain someone decided to, shall we say, put their two cents in."

"Really, Doctor," came the voice of Ziggy. "Such pettiness does not become you. I was merely trying to help."

Al groaned. "You know the rules better than that!"

"As I informed Doctor Beeks," Ziggy replied prissily, "the musical selections and any other data with which I am supplying Mr. Catlin are all from 1988. I am programmed to ensure the Visitor's comfort as well as making certain no temporal contamination takes place."

Al shook his head. Sometimes there was no arguing with her. He turned back to Verbena. "Keep working on the kid, all right? We've got to have more information for Sam. Anything you can find out may be the one thing he'll need to put it all together."

Verbena nodded. "I know, and I'll let you know as soon as I have anything." With that, she left the office.

Al took a sip of his coffee, then had to fight the urge not to spit it out. Damn, the stuff was vile! He'd have to make a note to talk to Denise again about exactly how she was managing to ruin what should have been perfectly good Colombian coffee! He put the cup aside and picked up one of his cigars. He'd promised not to smoke them in his quarters, around the kids, but here in his own office was all right, since the kids did not come in here.

With a sigh, he settled back to dealing with the mountain of paperwork on his desk. The time seemed to slip away as he waded through the mass, and the next time he paused to look at his watch, he realized that it was almost lunchtime. Damn, all these stupid forms and reports the nozzles on the Committee wanted in triplicate, or in some cases quadruplicate, with every i dotted, every t crossed, had taken him a lot longer than he'd thought they would! Besides that, Beeks hadn't yet reported back to him, which could only mean she didn't have any new information for him yet. That, in its turn, meant that he'd have to wait a little while longer before going back into the Imaging Chamber to check on Sam. There wasn't much point in doing that, short of some emergency, unless he could bring Sam some new information that would be helpful in dealing with the situation in 1988. And Al knew that if there was some emergency, Ziggy would alert him immediately.

"Ziggy, let me know the exact minute that anything changes with Sam, all right? And if Beeks calls, I want you to put her through to me asap. I'm going home to have lunch with the family." Al said, walking out of the office.

"Oh, that's very kind of you. Turn me into a messenger service." Ziggy snorted huffily.

Al shook his head. "Cut that out, you assembly of transistor rejects! Keep that up and I'll be talking to Gooshie about an upgrade for your circuits!" he growled.

"I most certainly do not contain anything as antiquated as transistors, Admiral, and even if I did, they would most certainly not be rejects. My father would not have used anything but the best components available in my construction. Also, I will have you know that every single one of my circuits tested 100 percent at the last diagnostic." Ziggy purred. "I can assure you I am functioning at optimum parameters."

"Just tell Doctor Beeks what I said, damn it!"

"Very well, Admiral, since you insist, I will inform her." Ziggy replied prissily, her tone making it quite clear she considered such a task beneath her. Well, that was just too damn bad, Al thought to himself. If Ziggy didn't like it she could just stuff it up a node somewhere.

Then Al hurried through the corridors and levels of the Project back to his quarters. The next hour or so was wonderfully relaxing, as he spent it chatting with Mary, and was even able to get in some time to play with Trudy, and Sammy, and Austin. It was a much needed, if too brief, break from worrying about Sam and what was going on with him.

However, all too soon, the time had passed, and he had to be getting back to work. Hopefully by now, he thought, Verbena would have gotten some more information out of the teenaged Shawn, and he would be able to pass that information along to Sam. With a round of hugs and kisses for his family, and promises to be back that evening for dinner unless there was some real emergency, some crisis, with Sam, he hurried back to the Control Room.

At that same time, elsewhere in the Project, in the present, Tina had also taken a break for lunch. She'd stopped by to check on the children, who were being taken care of by their babysitter. This was Cathy, a friend of Tina's who wasn't actually a member of the Project staff, but someone that she and Shawn, as well as Al, had known for several years now, since AJ had been a baby. In fact, next to herself, Shawn, and Shawn's mother Shirlee, Cathy was AJ's favorite grownup. As for Shawn himself, he wouldn't be home until that evening, Tina knew, because he was rehearsing with his band for their next show.

Once she'd fed Jeffy and made sure the older children were okay, all playing happily with their toys, while Cathy watched the children as she worked on her lesson plans--she was an elementary school teacher when she wasn't babysitting--Tina hurried to the Project cafeteria to get a bite to eat before she had to return to work. There, she found Verbena, who'd also stopped in for a bite.

"Bena, how's it going?" Tina asked.

"All right, I think, as well as it can under these circumstances anyway." Verbena replied. "You know how it usually is with the Visitors. Most of them, they're frightened, confused about where they are and what's happened to them. That's when they're adults, too. This Shawn's just turned thirteen, but then you know that; anyway, his being so young is making it harder. You also know what Shawn's history is."

"Right." Tina chuckled. "It's not every day that Sam leaps into the teenaged version of someone we know here. I think that's only happened once that I can remember."

"Right. There was that time Sam leaped into a younger version of Al." Verbena said.

Tina nodded. "I remember that was hard on Al, and now I sort of know how he must have felt. That is Shawn in there, at least the teen version." She sighed. "I hope I didn't make too much of a mess of things by blundering in on you two."

"It's okay. I told him simply that he might have reminded you of someone you know. Which isn't exactly a lie, though it isn't quite what he probably thinks I meant."

"You've got that right."

"Though there's something," Verbena smiled. "Right after you left, he said, 'She's cute for an old lady.'"

Tina burst into laughter. "Oh, that darling!"

Verbena laughed too, as the two women made their meal selections. They sat down to eat at the same table so that they could continue to chat. The time passed quickly, as quite often happens when one is having fun, and all too soon, both had to return to work.


	4. Chapter 4

June 16, 1988

Los Angeles, CA

At this time of day, which was late afternoon, the Burger King wasn't too busy. The lunch crowd had mostly left by now, and the dinner crowd hadn't yet arrived en masse. So there were plenty of booths free to choose from when Kyle and Sam came in; nor was there any real line to wait in before getting their orders; and so it also wasn't long before they were sitting at a corner table with cokes, burgers, and fries.

All the while, Sam had continued trying to talk to Kyle about what he was doing to himself, but Kyle still wasn't paying any attention to it. Sam knew he couldn't give up, he wouldn't. He had to keep trying, this was too important to Kyle's life. "Kyle, I'm not just going to drop it!" he tried again. "That stuff's no good at all, it's the same thing as taking poison."

"How many times do I have to tell you to lay off!" Kyle retorted. "We're supposed to be friends, but all you're doing is nagging me! What kind of friend does that? You're not my mother, I never had one you know!"

"I know, Kyle, but listen to me, please!" Sam pleaded with him. "You want to talk about friends? Friends--at least real ones--don't let friends hurt themselves, and that's exactly what you're doing!"

Kyle groaned and slammed his half eaten burger down onto the table. "You're really pushing it, Shawn." he grimaced. "I'll be right back." He stood up and stalked off in the direction of the restrooms.

"Okay, that went well." Sam muttered to himself.

"I'd say," came Al's voice, he having suddenly appeared standing beside their table. "But you've got to keep trying, Sam."

"Did I say I was giving up? No, I'm not!" Sam replied. "This kid is not going to do himself in while I'm here." At least he hoped not. He'd try his best, but there was only so much he could do. "Can you tell me any more about Shawn? Maybe I can do something with that to get through to Kyle."

"I'm not worried that you'll simply give up, Sam. That's not the way you are." Al said, and he meant it. "You asked about Shawn. Okay, I can tell you a little. He's into music, big time. From what Beeks has put together, he's just learning to play guitar right now, but he's good. I mean, really good. He's going to be really popular eventually, girls screaming in the aisles and all of that. Maybe you can use that to work on Kyle." He knew he wasn't supposed to give Sam too much information about the future, but damn it, this was important in more ways than one. This was as far as he'd go, though. He didn't want to risk trying to explain to Sam about Shawn's magic unless he absolutely had to. He knew how far he'd get with that without tangible proof; he remembered the time he'd had trying to convince Sam that there was any such thing as vampires. Sam was just too much the physicist, the scientist, to believe in anything supernatural.

Sam nodded. He'd seen music books, and quite a lot of them, among Shawn's things in the apartment. But he didn't get the chance to reply out loud, as any further conversation with Al was cut off by Kyle's returning to the table. "Look," he said as he began to gather up the remains of his meal and stuff it into the bag, evidently intending to leave and take what was left of his meal with him. "I've got something I've got to do, Shawn. You can hang out here, or go back to my place now, or if there's anything else you want to do go ahead. I'll be home later and I'll see you then."

Sam wasn't sure he liked this sudden turn of events at all. Where could Kyle possibly have to go, at this time of day, that was so urgent all of a sudden? he wondered. If it was something a teenager would normally go for, like the movies, or the mall, or even a library, why didn't Kyle just come out and say that? Also, Kyle hadn't mentioned having any errands to run, so this was unexpected, and some gut instinct gave Sam a bad feeling about this. "Do you want me to come with you?" he asked. Maybe if he tagged along he'd get a better idea of just what Kyle was mixed up in, or who with.

"No, this's just something I've got to do. Besides, I'm not a baby, and I don't need you watching me every minute, okay? I said, I'll see you later!" Kyle snapped and walked off. leaving Sam to scramble to clean up and hurry after him. But by the time he'd done all that and made it out of the restaurant, Kyle was no longer anywhere in sight.

"Oh boy." Sam murmured, and glanced to Al, who'd followed along. "Any idea where he's gone?"

Al tried the handlink again. A moment later, he shook his head. "There are just too many variables, Ziggy says, too many places that he might've decided to go. I'm going to have Beeks talk to Shawn again, and maybe we'll find something more out that way. I'll be back as soon as we have something for you."

Sam nodded, and Al vanished through the 'door' once again, leaving Sam to make his way back to Kyle's apartment.

A few hours later, that same day...

Sam had come close to wearing a hole in the carpet pacing the room, worrying about where Kyle was and what he might be doing. The way he'd acted when he'd left the restaurant had been strange, even more so than what Sam had gathered was usual for him. Damn, why couldn't Ziggy have gotten some idea of Kyle's whereabouts yet? he asked himself, there being no one else he could ask for an answer to that question, as Al had not yet reappeared.

He'd looked all through the small apartment, but hadn't yet found anything whatever to indicate that Kyle's uncle had been here any time recently. There was a bedroom that looked like it was supposed to be his, and Sam had confirmed this by finding the uncle's name in some books and on some papers, but the room was dusty, and showed no sign that anyone had been in it within the last few days to a week. What, exactly, could be going on with him, Sam wondered. The uncle had not come in even once during the last entire day that Sam had been here, either. Sam had thought of talking to him about Kyle, but that would be impossible unless the man put in an appearance. Should he ask Kyle where his uncle was, or was that something that Shawn would already have known about? That was yet another on the growing list of questions to which he still hadn't found answers.

Then, finally, he heard the front door opening. He looked up to see Kyle coming in, his hands in his pockets.

"You okay?" Sam asked. There was something about the expression on Kyle's face that sent up warning flags.

"I'm all right, Shawn, don't start with me, please." Kyle demanded.

"I'm just worried about you." Sam said, scrambling for the best way to ask the question that'd been nagging at him, and hoping he wasn't about to make a huge mistake. "Kyle, I was wondering, and if you told me this already, I don't remember. Where's your uncle at? I don't think he came in last night, not that I heard anyway."

"He didn't." Kyle said sullenly. "He's where he always is. Working. He's on the road a lot, that's part of his job. So I only get to see him maybe once a week or two weeks."

Sam shook his head. No wonder Kyle was in this much trouble. Nothing good whatsoever could come of leaving kids on their own this much of the time. "I think you need to talk to him." he said after a moment.

"Oh, come on! Where the hell do you get off, telling me to talk to him, when you came over here because you couldn't talk to your mom??" Kyle retorted.

"I know," Sam sighed, hoping he was doing a good enough job of playacting. "But that's a different situation. I'm not doing drugs, and you are!" Kyle did have a point, it did make 'Shawn' sound like a hypocrite, but there wasn't anything else he could do. He had to keep trying to get Kyle off the drugs, do whatever it took to save his life. Sam could only hope that his efforts wouldn't make things more difficult for Shawn when he came back to pick up his life again after this.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Like he'd care." he said bitterly. "Anyway, how am I supposed to talk to him? Have him pencil me in between appointments? When he does come in here, it's late at night, I'm usually already in bed. He grabs a bite to eat and hits the sack. The next day, he's off again on yet another business trip. I might see him for breakfast, maybe five minutes total, ten if I'm lucky." he shook his head. "Look, Shawn, if I were you, I wouldn't be spending so much time worrying about me, or my life. I'm doing okay. I am. What I'd be worrying about if I were you are...other things."

"Come on, Kyle, what's that supposed to mean?" Sam demanded, not liking the tone that'd come into Kyle's voice with those last words. "What 'other things'??"

Kyle looked away for a moment, then turned back to face Shawn. "Okay, it's just as well you should know about this, maybe you'll get off my case for a while." He took a deep breath, then continued. "There's these...people. Some friends of mine you don't know."

Sam didn't like the sound of this. "Were these 'people' the ones you were in such a tearing hurry to go see earlier?" That was all too likely, and he didn't like the implications of that one bit. Why all the secrecy?

Kyle nodded. "You've got that right." He stared at 'Shawn'. "Look, it's as simple as this. They've seen you hanging out with me, Shawn. So they're wondering who you are and what's going on, why you're suddenly with me all the time. They were asking me all kinds of questions about you. How do I know you, where do you live, who's your family." He looked away from Shawn for a moment, then turned back to him. "I'm sorry, but I had to tell them about your mom!"

"I'll just bet you did." Sam rolled his eyes. "Look, who are these 'friends' of yours?" Sam demanded. He still wasn't sure what the situation was with Shawn and his mother, but the situation with Kyle, and these mysterious 'friends', along with the way Kyle was talking, was sending red flags to his gut instincts.

"The kind of people who don't like questions like that!" Kyle snapped. "So don't ask, ok?" With that he turned away, intending to stalk off into his room. However, he bumped into the corner of the table, and the result was an unplanned interruption; a bag of white powder chose that precise moment to fall out of his jeans pocket.

Both of them lunged for it, but this time Sam got to it first. Snatching the small packet up, and knowing he'd have only seconds before Kyle made another attempt to retrieve it, he raced to the bathroom and dumped the contents into the toilet, flushing just as Kyle reached the bathroom door.

"Damn it Shawn! That was a whole week's stash! Do you know how much that stuff costs??" Kyle shouted.

"That doesn't matter." Sam replied firmly. "You're better off without it. Is that what these so called 'friends' of yours are? Is that where you're getting this stuff? Let me tell you something about these people, Kyle, these people that you're calling your 'friends'. Who are they, really? I may not know their names, but I know what they are, and I also know, even without ever having met them, that they're no good, any more than the stuff they're peddling is. They don't give a damn about you, they're just using you, don't you see that? All they're going to do is use you up and throw you away like yesterday's trash! You're better than that!"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Oh, give me a break, Shawn! You still don't know what the hell you're talking about!!"

"I think I do. I know I do. You don't need that filthy stuff, Kyle. No one does. It's taking away everything you could be." Sam noticed that Kyle hadn't actually answered the question about his 'friends', but his doing that was an answer in itself, one that sent up more red flags. It tended to confirm, rather than disprove, everything Sam was thinking about them. If only he could get Kyle to see it, he sighed.

"Taking away what? I'm just a kid, I'm no one special." was the bitter reply. "You're the one who's going to make it out of this neighborhood one of these days."

Sam remembered what Al had told him earlier about that and managed a smile. "That's my dream, Kyle, yes. But you shouldn't just give up on yourself like that. You'll find your way out of here too. You need to give yourself a chance."

"Will you quit talking like something out of some pop psychology book!" Kyle shouted back at him. "You're forgetting I've heard you play. Besides that, I've also heard what the music teacher at school says about you. He can't mention your name without getting stars in his eyes. And on top of all that, Shawn, you've got a great singing voice. You'll have the girls crying to hear you one of these days. Me, I only sound good if I'm in the shower."

"So? That just means music's not your thing, that's all." Sam replied. "It doesn't mean you don't have some gift of your own, and you'll figure out what it is someday." He was continuing with his desperate efforts to find some way, any way, to encourage the other boy to get himself straightened out. "It won't be by doing drugs, though. That'll get you absolutely nowhere. There's something important, something special, inside you, too. Each and every one of us has got their own special something. You've simply got to get off using that crap and figure out what your special something is." He shook his head.

Kyle snorted. "It's not crap. How many times do I have to tell you to lay off on that line?? What's crap is your thinking I'm anything special! Damn it, Shawn, now I've got to figure out how the hell I'm going to replace what you just flushed!!" Not giving 'Shawn' a chance to reply, he stamped out of the room and into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Sam was left standing there, staring at the closed door. He slammed a fist against the table in frustration. Once again he'd hit a brick wall with Kyle, damn it! But he wasn't giving up. He just had to find another way; if only he could think of something. He was sure he would eventually; though sometimes he wished these things wouldn't be so hard. Trying to save Kyle from himself was beginning to feel like pulling teeth. It had to be done, though; there was no choice if he was going to save Kyle's life before the time ran out.


	5. Chapter 5

Project Quantum Leap

November 3, 2007

1430 hours/2:30 pm

The Waiting Room

Verbena Beeks entered to find Shawn strumming on the guitar, with several books of sheet music stacked on the table beside him. "Looks like you're having fun," she said as she took her seat.

Shawn looked at her and managed a smile, despite the total weirdness of this entire situation. "I'm trying to." he said. "The music," he smiled again, "it's always been something I've liked, as far back as I can remember." He paused, his expression changing momentarily as a memory surfaced. "My...mother...was always saying that when I was a baby, I'd start crying unless the radio was on. She also said I used to bang spoons on glasses when we didn't have anything else for me to make sounds with." A bit of an embarrassed chuckle followed.

Verbena smiled. "Sounds like you really love music." she said. That, too, was another thing she already knew, but it was all part of keeping up the necessary pretense that she didn't know anything about his adult self in the present time. She thought of a question that would work. "So is this just a hobby for you, or have you thought about sticking with it when you finish school?" It kept the teenaged Shawn talking, and helped maintain the illusion that she didn't know anything about his future, adult self. That was critical if history was not to be changed in a negative way.

Another nod. "A lot of the kids I'm in school with, don't know what they're going to do when they grow up. Some of them don't care, either; they figure they're not going anywhere anyway. I do, and I am. The neighborhood's not going to eat me alive.." Shawn said. "I want to sing and play for other people, give them something they'll like while doing something I like." he chuckled.

"What does your mother think about that?" Verbena asked, hoping to get Shawn thinking about going back to her when this was over. "Does she like music too?"

Shawn swallowed. The thought of his mother had suddenly brought a lump into his throat. "She likes to hear me play and sing." he said after a moment. "She told me that whatever I want to do, that's what she wants. She told me to follow my dreams; that Tompkins had taken away her dreams and she didn't ever want to see that happen to me."

Verbena nodded. This part of Shawn's and Shirlee's lives also was one she had heard about before, from both the adult Shawn and Shirlee in the present. However, to properly do what she needed to with this Shawn, she would have to continue to pretend ignorance of all of that. "Was she like you, by that I mean, did she want to get into music, too?" she improvised rapidly what she hoped he would take as a reasonable and logical question for her to ask.

Shawn shook his head. "No. She used to be into sports, she said. There's a medal she always wears, she won it when she was in a track meet her last year of high school."

"I see," Verbena said quietly. "So your mother was an athlete, and then that terrible man hurt her, crippled her." she shook her head. She knew about this situation, too, of course, and also exactly what medal it was Shawn was referring to. She'd seen Shirlee wearing it; in fact, Shirlee was never without it. But all she allowed herself to say out loud was, "Go on, Shawn, please. If you still want to talk about this, of course." She rather hoped he would; however, the choice in the end had to be his. All she could do was encourage him to talk, but she couldn't force him to, if he didn't feel comfortable about continuing the conversation.

He took a deep breath, made himself go on. "Before all of this happened, I mean before I found out I could do magic, or knew anything about Tompkins, I used to dream about taking her out of the neighborhood someday. You should see where we live, it's not a very good place. There's people who do drugs, and get into all kinds of other trouble, all the time. Almost every day someone's getting shot, things like that." he shook his head, another deep breath. "I don't want Kyle to end up like that, and I'm afraid he might. There's some really bad people around, too, that I've heard rumors about. People talk to each other, you know, even in a neighborhood like that. I think he's mixed up with one of those. I'm starting to remember most of what happened before I woke up in here," he waved a hand to indicate their surroundings, "but I'm not sure if I knew who Kyle's 'friends' are or not."

Verbena shook her head. What Shawn had said about the kind of people Kyle was likely to be involved with didn't reassure her in the least. However, she couldn't let her apprehension show; that'd only get Shawn more worried than he already was and that would work against them. "Sam is going to take care of that, I promise. I'm sure he'll do his very best to get Kyle out of whatever trouble he's in. He's good at fixing people's lives, you could say." she said reassuringly. "What I'd like to talk to you about now is you, and your mother. I'm sure she's got to be worrying herself sick about you right now. I know if I had a child who'd run off, that's what I'd be doing."

"You don't think I know that? Believe me, I do!" Shawn demanded. "But how in the blazes can I ever go back to her, when I know damn well every time she looks at me, it's going to make her think of him, make her remember all over again the hell he put her through." He paused, looked downward, an embarrassed expression on his face. "I'm sorry for the language, Doctor."

"It's okay," Verbena said, "I've heard worse language than that, believe me. This is a lot for you to have to deal with, and you've every right to be upset. About your mother, though...Shawn, she doesn't think that way, or blame you for what that man did to her. You need to believe that." Verbena tried once again to convince him. There was so much that depended on Shawn's going home after this!

He only sighed. There was a part of him that wanted to believe what she was saying, but there was also another part of him that still wasn't sure that staying away from Shirlee wouldn't be better for her, as much as it would hurt him. This doctor hadn't seen the look on his mother's face, how hard she'd been crying, the whole time that she'd been telling him about Nathan Tompkins and what he'd done to her. Shawn would have given anything to never see that look on his mother's face again, to know that no one would ever again hurt her that deeply. He'd do anything to keep her safe from that, even staying away from her if he had to. Why couldn't he get this doctor to understand that? Seeing that she was still looking at him, as if expecting an answer, he murmured, "I, I'll think about it, okay?" He let out another deep breath, trying to ease the tightness in his throat. "Can we, um, talk about something else now?" He really needed to get off this subject, pronto, or he would start crying.

Verbena nodded. She could see that she had made some impression, but she also knew that pushing him any further now wouldn't help the situation at all; in fact, it might even backfire, and make things worse for teen Shawn than they already were. She couldn't risk that. "All right, we can talk about anything else you want to. Music, if you like," she managed a smile.

Shawn took a drink of Coke, swallowed, then went back to strumming the guitar. "Sure." he said after a moment. "Now that's something I'd always like to talk about. Would you like me to sing something for you?" he asked.

"That'd be wonderful!" Verbena said. "Pick any song you know, I'm sure whatever it is, it'll be great." she said encouragingly.

Shawn nodded. "Okay. This is sort of a new one, but I like the sound a lot." He paused, "Ziggy, are you still there?"

"I am always here." Ziggy said. "Inside this place, you might say I am everywhere."

Verbena only rolled her eyes. She thought of saying something about Ziggy having talked to the Visitor again, but decided against it; what would be the point? Arguing with Ziggy rarely got them anywhere, she thought ruefully.

"That's really cool." Shawn said, then paused to think for a moment. "Do you know 'Kokomo'?" Shawn asked. "The Beach Boys just came out with that a few months ago. It's really popular."

Verbena smiled. "That's a good one," she said. She remembered it from years ago, when she'd been in college. But she knew that to Shawn it was brand new, as far as he knew it was still 1988.

"I have thousands of songs in my memory banks," Ziggy replied. "I can most certainly play that one or any other you might choose."

"Okay!" Shawn exclaimed excitedly. "All you need to do is give me the background music, I'll do the guitar and the lyrics." Shawn said.

"As you wish." Ziggy purred, for once not making a sarcastic remark, much to Verbena's surprise.

A moment later the music filled the small room. Shawn began to play along, and a moment after that he began to sing the lyrics.

Verbena sat back and smiled. Even with the seriousness of this leap, she was glad she'd gotten a chance to hear how Shawn had sounded at thirteen. She wasn't all that musical herself, but she knew talent when she heard it, the potential for the accomplished singer the boy sitting beside her would one day become.

She sat quietly, just enjoying the performance, until the song ended. When it did, she clapped. "That was really good, Shawn!" she said with a smile.

"I quite agree." Ziggy put in. "Shawn, would you like to be my boy toy?"

"Ziggy!" Verbena exclaimed. Where did a computer come up with a request like that? she wondered.

"You humans have your hobbies, your toys. Why should I not have one of my own? It might help me to better understand you." Ziggy replied haughtily.

Verbena sighed again, not knowing what sort of a response, if any, she could possibly make to that.

Shawn shrugged looked up in the direction Ziggy's voice came from, or seemed to be coming from. "Uh...okay. That sure sounds cool to me." Though what a computer would need or want with a boy toy, he didn't at all understand; but it was just one more weird and confusing thing about all of this.

June 17, 1988

Los Angeles, California

That morning, Kyle had seemed all right, as much as Sam could tell by merely looking. However, he also had appeared not to be too interested in talking to Sam, or as Kyle thought, Shawn, about much of anything beyond the basic pleasantries. Sam figured the safest thing to do at this point would be to go with him to school. Not only was it what Shawn would've done, but it would give Sam more chances to stick close to Kyle; luckily, as Sam found out by simply checking Shawn's school books and supplies, Shawn and Kyle were in most of the same classes. That would definitely work in Sam's favor, making keeping tabs on Kyle a lot easier.

As it had turned out, despite all of Sam's worries, the day itself had gone all right. There'd been no trouble getting through 'Shawn's' school routine. Sam had even managed to have a little fun when it came time for Shawn's music lesson, even if he did have to be careful to not let on that he knew more than Shawn was supposed to.

Sam was also worried about Shawn's mother, and what he'd do if she came looking for him. If she showed up, would 'Shawn' be more likely to go back to her? If he did, how would he keep close to Kyle? He still didn't know enough about that aspect of this situation; he hoped Al would be able to bring him more information about that.

There was an unexpected and welcome stroke of luck for Sam that afternoon, when Kyle once again suggested that they hit the Burger King after school. Sam, still hoping he'd be able to get through to Kyle, went along with it At least Kyle was still talking to 'Shawn', and that, Sam was hoping, had to be a good sign. Sam knew he had to be careful not to push Kyle so far that he threw Shawn out of the apartment; that would make helping him more difficult than it already was. Sam was having a hard enough time as it was with his efforts to talk Kyle into getting off the drugs, and he also hoped that Kyle didn't again decide to take off for another mysterious meeting. If Kyle did end up doing that again, though, Sam hoped he'd be able to trail him this time and find out who exactly these mysterious 'people' were that Kyle was dealing with. .

Sam just hoped Al would show up again soon, and hopefully with some more information. He had a strong suspicion from what Kyle had said, and what he hadn't said, about just who these 'friends' of Kyle's were. Kyle had to be getting the drugs from someone, after all.

This time it was Sam who took a bathroom break, when Al appeared in the restaurant. It wasn't an ideal way to handle Al's appearances, but it was easier than letting "Shawn" be seen talking to someone who, from the point of view of Kyle or anyone else nearby, apparently wasn't there. The fact that only Sam could see the hologram Al did often have its drawbacks.

"How's it going with the kid, Sam?" Al asked. "Ziggy says the probabilities have shifted, but Kyle still is going to OD on the 19th. You've only got two days left."

"I know, Al." Sam said sadly. "But on that subject, he's not listening to me. And I still haven't seen his uncle, that might have helped. What can you tell me about him?"

Al checked the handlink. "Kyle's uncle...Ok, Steven Jennings. Adopted Kyle after Steven's brother and his wife were killed in a car wreck when Kyle was three years old."

Sam nodded. "So why isn't he around here now, when Kyle obviously needs help? That bedroom I checked out yesterday doesn't look like anyone's slept in it in at least a week, if not longer."

"According to Ziggy, Steven Jennings is, or was in 1988, working for a company that made office supplies, in the sales and marketing division. This company sold to other businesses, not to the general public."

"That explains why he does so much travelling. Kyle did say he was working, but not in what field." Sam said. There had to be some way to get him back to LA, though. He just wasn't sure how to make that happen. Even if he could find out where Steven Jennings was supposed to be today, and make contact with him there, one critical question would still remain; would Steven Jennings accept the word of someone he didn't know from Adam that Kyle was in big trouble? "Al, what are the chances that it'd accomplish something if I get in touch with the uncle and tell him what's going on?"

Al fiddled with the handlink again. "Not good. Ziggy says. The uncle doesn't know Shawn, hasn't ever met him, or any of Kyle's other friends for that matter. He'd be much too likely to dismiss it as a prank call of some sort, and ignore it."

"There's a lot he seems not to know." Sam said bitterly. "So you're telling me he'll ignore that call the same way that he's ignoring his nephew. He'll only wake up to what's been going on after it's too late, after his nephew winds up dead. No, no, no. There's got to be something I can do here, Al. I won't accept that this leap's a lost cause. It can't be."

At that moment, Sam was interrupted by the handlink's beeping frantically, flashing a multicolored rainbow of lights as it did so. Al tapped it in response, and after taking a moment to scan the screen, looked up at Sam. "Sam, it's urgent! You've got to stop Kyle now! Ziggy says the circumstances have changed. The records now show that Kyle Jennings died today while attempting to rob a convenience store, shot by an offduty security guard."

"Damn it no!" Sam cried and raced out of the bathroom, Al close behind, in time to see Kyle racing out the front door of the restaurant.

Neither Kyle or Sam saw the large black car sitting across the street from the restaurant. But Al did. "An expensive car like that?? In this neighborhood?" Al muttered. As critical as the situation with Sam and Kyle was right now, some gut instinct was screaming at Al that this car was important, very much so. He scanned the license plate with the handlink, but then knew he had to find out who was inside and what was being said. The windows were tinted, so from the outside all he could make out was three men, one driver and two passengers, and there was some movement, likely they were talking among themselves right now!

"Gooshie, center me on that car!" he called urgently.

A moment later, he was inside it, just in time to observe the driver and two other men, all sitting quietly with smug looks on their faces that sent chills up Al's spine. He'd missed the conversation, damn it. But he could still find out something, he knew. Snapping pictures of all three men with the handlink, he fed the images back to Ziggy, in the hope that the computer would be able to identify them.

A few minutes later, Ziggy sent back the information that Al wanted. When he read over the data, it set alarm bells to ringing. Sam had to be told about this as soon as possible; he'd been right, these people were very much a part of what was going on with Kyle!

Meanwhile, Sam had managed to catch up to Kyle. "Wait a second, where do you think you're going in such a hurry?"

"Take off, Shawn, this's something I've got to do and I don't need your help!" Kyle flung back.

"No way, pal. Not until you start talking." He grabbed Kyle's arm, trying to stop him from getting away; that was when Sam saw the bulge in Kyle's jeans pocket. A bulge that had a very familiar and unnerving shape. "Kyle...don't tell me you've got a gun in there. What's going on?"

"What the hell business is it of yours?" Kyle demanded angrily. He was starting to wonder what he'd been thinking by letting Shawn move into his place. All Shawn had been doing since then was hassling him. Shawn didn't know jack about what his life was like. At least that cripple of a mother of his was home, which was more than Kyle could say for his own uncle.

"I'm your friend, whether you know it or not! That makes it my business! Now what is that??" Sam demanded, pointing at the pocket, though he already suspected he knew the answer.

"OK, OK, you got me into this so maybe I will tell you. I've got to make up for that stunt you pulled yesterday and that takes money, got that? Where else am I going to get some and fast?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "You mean robbing some gas station or maybe a store? Wake up, Kyle! That's no way to handle things. Come on, think about what you're doing!, You can't do this. People get sent to jail, or worse, wind up dead, doing this kind of thing!"

"You should've thought about that yesterday afternoon! It's your fault I have to do this, you know!" Kyle snapped back. "You had to flush it all down the toilet, remember?"

"What else did you think I was going to do, just stand off to one side and let you kill yourself from messing around with that crap?" Sam replied firmly. "Oh, no, That is not going to happen, not when I'm here." His determination to save Kyle from himself hadn't wavered in the least, no matter how hard a nut Kyle was going to be to crack, he'd do it to save his life. "I'm not going to stand by and watch while you do yourself in by doing something else just as stupid, which is exactly what waving a gun around and holding up someplace is!"

Kyle snorted. Pulling away from Shawn, he began to walk quickly away. He didn't have time to waste arguing, not if he was going to get the money this afternoon. Obviously he was going to have to ditch Mr Goody Two Shoes Shawn, so he'd be free to carry out his plan to rob the store. He had to get the money somehow, and soon; he was already starting to feel bad again, and the drugs were the only thing that made the bad feelings go away. Why couldn't he get Shawn to understand that? he wondered.

Before Kyle could get more than a few steps, however, Sam, out of sheer desperation, threw himself physically at Kyle, and a brief struggle ensued. Finally Sam was forced to knock Kyle out; it was the only way, apparently, to stop him from either continuing to fight back or carrying out his rash plan. He didn't like physical violence, but there hadn't been any other choice in this situation.

Luckily for Sam, this part of LA being the sort of neighborhood it was, the people passing by on the street simply hurried on their way and pretended not to see. Around here, getting involved in someone else's fight just wasn't safe, it was better to mind your own business. Anything else could be, and often did, prove too dangerous.

Once Kyle was down for the count, Sam couldn't think of anything else to do but take him back to the apartment and hope he could talk some sense into him when he woke up. The first thing Sam did, though, was take the gun out of Kyle's pocket and toss it into a dumpster, after first carefully removing the cartridge and bullets, including the one in the chamber. He then wiped the gun off to make sure none of Kyle's prints, or Shawn's, would remain so it wouldn't be traced back to Kyle and make things harder for him, or complicate things for Shawn, any more than they were already. There were laws against underage people having guns, after all; though luckily he'd managed to keep Kyle from doing anything more serious than that, at least for now. As for the bullets, he dropped them, one or two at a time, in various trash cans he passed on the way back to the apartment. Scattering them in this way made it less likely they'd be found and used; it wasn't much of a deterrent, Sam knew, but the best he could improvise under the circumstances.

It wasn't at all easy getting through the streets lugging an unconscious Kyle, but Sam was at least sure there wasn't any serious injury; he'd checked for that before trying to move him. Had there been anything of that sort, he'd have had no other choice but to call an ambulance. At least he didn't have that complication to deal with, though there were quite a few strange looks from people they passed on the street. Sam hoped they'd think Kyle was just drunk, and not ask too many questions. Fortunately. at least for the present situation, this neighborhood didn't look like the type of place where people would be too eager to call the authorities themselves; so he didn't have to worry about trying to explain his actions to the local police. As much as doing that might help with Kyle's situation in one way, with this neighborhood being the way it was, it might, unfortunately, make things worse for him in another. Sam had had to concede that after what Kyle had said earlier about people who didn't like snoops.

Once they reached the apartment, Sam placed Kyle on the sofa, figuring it was best to let him wake up on his own, and reasonably certain he'd be doing that soon enough. Getting him here had really been the easy part, though; the hard part would be dealing with Kyle when he woke up. Sam knew Kyle wasn't going to be too happy with Shawn, but damn it he'd had no choice, not if he was going to save Kyle's life in spite of everything Kyle seemed to be doing to ruin it. Sam had promised to both Al and himself that he wasn't going to let Kyle kill himself on drugs, and he was going to do whatever it took to keep that promise.

As if Sam wasn't worried enough about this whole situation, Al had reappeared just after Sam had gotten Kyle onto the sofa, and what he'd had to say had been less than reassuring.

"Sam, we're still in a lot of trouble here." Al announced as he materialized. "I know, you managed to keep Kyle from attempting to rob that store and getting himself killed, and that's good as far as that went. But Ziggy just reassessed the probabilities. According to her, the timeline has now shifted back to the original scenario. The odds are now 98 that Kyle will OD in two days."

"Well I flushed his last batch," Sam said, "and he obviously hasn't replaced it yet, or he wouldn't have been so desperate to try robbery today."

"He's going to get the money to replace it somehow, Ziggy's certain of that. And there's something else you should know, Sam." Al continued. "Didn't you notice that expensive foreign car that's been following the two of you around?"

Sam shook his head. "What, are you out of your mind, Al? Have you looked at this neighborhood? No one would own a car like that in this part of town."

"You would if you were filthy rich, Sam." Al said bitterly. "And at least one person in this part of LA is exactly that, going by the information Ziggy's managed to dig up. His name is Tommy Douglass, who's known as "Big T" on the streets around here. According to Ziggy, in the 1980s he was one of the biggest drug dealers in Southern California. At least, allegedly; he was questioned by the police several times, for various incidents, but they could never make anything stick in court. The kind of sleazeball who was just too good at covering his tracks, know what I mean?" Al shook his head. "I wonder if he uses any of my ex wives's lawyers, they were all pretty slick types too." he let out a sigh, then returned to the subject at hand. "Your pal Kyle hangs out with some real winners, Sam."

"Oh, boy." Sam muttered. He'd known Kyle had to be dealing with some drug supplier, but he hadn't realized it'd be someone who was an apparent major figure in the filthy trade, he'd assumed it was some two-bit street dealer. "Kyle's mixed up with someone like that?!?" He shook his head. "Well, I'll have to get him out of this guy's clutches somehow. There's got to be a way, there simply has to be. Kyle doesn't need any 'friends' like these, no one does."

Al nodded. "You got that right. But Sam, you've got to be careful. It looks like they've been watching you with Kyle, and that could be dangerous. These are the kind of people who don't like snoops, or anyone else they don't know poking into their business. Odds are pretty good that that's what they think you, or rather Shawn, is. I'd be willing to bet Mr. Big T is worried that Shawn's going to rat them out to the cops."

"I got that impression from what Kyle said earlier." Sam replied.

Before Sam could say anything else to Al, a moan from Kyle distracted him. Kyle was coming to, which in one way was a good sign, but in another had Sam worried. He knew Kyle was not going to be happy with Shawn, and he'd have to deal with that.

"Uhh..." Kyle murmured, rubbing his head. "What the hell..." He tried to sit up, but his head hurt too much and he lay back down. What'd happened? The last thing he remembered was...

"Shawn!" He groaned, "you...you hit me! damn it!" as the memory came back to him.

"Sorry about that, Kyle, but I couldn't get you to listen to me. I had to stop you, what else could I do?" Sam asked, hoping he could get Kyle to start seeing what a mess he was making of his life.

"You could've just let me go, like I asked! Aghh!" Kyle cried out as another stab of pain shot through his head, and he rubbed at it desperately.

"I'll get you some ice for that." Sam said. "Look at it this way, all you've ended up with are some bumps and bruises, and not anything more serious. Which you know perfectly well it could've been, if I'd let you do something as stupid as rob a store. People get shot that way, you know, and too many of them wind up dead."

"I'd've been all right!" Kyle snapped, intending for a moment to really tear into 'Shawn'; however, the effort only made his head hurt worse than it already did. He swore and sank back into the sofa pillows. Why did Shawn have to keep interfering? He just couldn't understand it.

Sam shook his head, and busied himself with getting an icepack made up. He still wasn't getting through to Kyle, damn it! But he was determined not to give up. He'd at least managed to save Kyle's life for now; but he knew the rough part was still ahead of him.

"Just be glad you're still alive." Sam continued. "Stop and think for a minute about this; if I'd let you go, maybe you wouldn't be. I'm trying to help you here, whether you know it or not. Because that's what real friends do. That's something else you ought to be thinking about."

Kyle only rolled his eyes, but that, too, simply made his head hurt more. However, that was when he remembered something else. Gritting his teeth against the drumbeat in his head, he made himself reach into his jeans pocket. A moment later he let out a curse. "Damn it Shawn! Where is it?" He couldn't have lost that, too, after what he'd had to go through to get it in the first place. What was Shawn trying to do to him?

"If you mean the gun, in the trash. Where it belongs. And don't ask me which dumpster it was, they all look alike to me." Sam replied. That wasn't entirely true, he knew which one he'd dumped it into, but telling Kyle that might not be a very good idea, he knew. He couldn't trust Kyle not to take it into his head to go searching for it. "I wasn't going to leave that around for you to try and do something else stupid with later!"

"Oh that's just great, Shawn...ooohhh!" he moaned, as another sharp stab of pain hit him. "Put me in hock for that too? You're really pushing the line here, you know that?"

"Better that, than letting you end up dead!" Sam answered. "Look, don't keep talking, okay? You need to rest, and let me put this on you. It'll ease the headache sooner, let you get some sleep. That'll help more than anything else will."

Kyle moaned again as Sam put the ice pack into place.

Al had been watching through this entire conversation. Seeing that there was nothing more that he could do here, at least for now, he went back through the door to the Project. Before doing so, however, he promised Sam that he would return later; hopefully, with some more information that Sam would be able to use to get through to Kyle before it was too late.


	6. Chapter 6

(Author's note. The "Donna" referred to in this chapter is **not** Donna Eleese from the TV show. She does not appear in this story. Also, the "Lord Ravenclaw" mentioned has **no** connection whatsoever to the Harry Potter universe. The character of "Julian Vaurien" mentioned here does not belong to this author, but is being used by permission.)

Project Quantum Leap

November 3, 2007

2135 hours/9:35 pm

Shawn and Tina Catlin's quarters

Tina had left the Control Room shortly before dinnertime, and hurried back to the rooms she shared with Shawn and her family. The evening had passed quite enjoyably. Since Shawn didn't have a show tonight, he could be home, which meant they could all eat together, and then have some 'quality time' as the experts would put it.

Tina had spent most of the time sitting in the large rocking chair with Jeffrey on her lap, while Shawn played some music on his guitar, which AJ did his best to follow along with on his own toy one. Of the three oldest children, AJ seemed, at least so far, to be the one most interested in music, though Tina knew it was more simply 'wanting to be like daddy' than anything else, at least at the age AJ was now. While AJ did that, Andrew sat clapping his hands to the tune, and Andrea tried to hum as she played with her stuffed animals. Tina could see that she was as devoted to her favorite, a large brown dog she called, not surprisingly, Brownie, as much as AJ had been to the green crocodile Lyle at the same age. Jeffrey, being only just over was much too young yet to care about anything more than eating and sleeping.

But the evening passed all too quickly, as such things unfortunately always seem to, and the time came for the children to be put to bed. This, too, went without any real hitches; none of the children had been inclined as yet to be difficult about bedtime, much to both Tina's and Shawn's relief. So the couple would have some time, a few hours, at least, to themselves before Tina would be obliged to feed Jeffrey again. And they had every intention of making those few hours count.

2205 hours/11:05 pm, that same evening

Tina came awake in their bed, lying beside Shawn, who awoke as she stirred. She hadn't actually heard Jeffrey crying yet, but maternal instinct was telling her it was about time, he would be soon, and that was what had woken her.

Shawn smiled up at her, "You hurry back, all right? And then I just may, um, sing you back to sleep," he winked meaningfully.

"Oh, I'd love that!" she murmured, snuggling close to him. She knew only too well what Shawn meant when he winked at her that way. "You know I always love to hear you...singing." and she gave him a kiss to let him know she'd gotten the hint. "Just hold me, for one more minute, please?" she asked, and Shawn eagerly obliged. She could wait till Jeffrey actually cried, couldn't she? It wouldn't hurt him, would it?

"I thought you'd say that," Shawn laughed and held her tightly, then gave her yet another kiss for good measure.

But even as their lips touched, something happened. Tina felt a tingle, and then he was gone, vanished.

"What? Shawn?!?" Tina cried out in shock. This was completely unlike him,it was totally unexpected. Shawn did have magic and could have transported himself away, that was true, but she also knew without any doubt that he would never have done that in the middle of a kiss, without giving her any warning. "Shawn!" she cried again. Looking around the room, she realized with a shock that she didn't see any of his things. On an impulse, she raced to the closet, throwing it open only to see that all of his clothes were gone, only her own clothing was there. Then suddenly some instinct, a sudden stab of fear, made her leap from the bed and, throwing on a robe, run to the children's rooms.

Or what should've been the children's rooms. When she reached the corridor that led to Jeffrey's, Andrew's, and Andrea's rooms, she found a wall in its place. What? Then she remembered; they'd had to have this section of the living quarters remodelled, shortly before the twins had been born. The bedrooms which were now Andrea's, Andrew's, and Jeffrey's, had originally been part of the apartment next to hers. She ran to AJ's room and found that was much the same. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw him sound asleep in his bed. That relief faded a moment later; as she switched on the light and looked around, she realized that some of the things she distinctly remembered him having were gone. The guitar, the keyboard, the xylophone. All of these were things that she remembered Shawn having given him for various birthdays or Christmases. What could this mean, what could have caused this?

"AJ!" she cried out as she scooped him up into her arms. The boy came awake. "Mommy?" the six year old asked. He was scared by the look on her face, but he was a big boy and was not going to cry like some little baby. "Mommy, what's wrong??"

"AJ, I need you...I can't find your daddy!" Tina cried, her efforts to not cry in front of him failing miserably.

He just looked at her. "Mommy. I don't have a daddy. That's what you told me. And why did you call me AJ?." He could only stare up at his mother, confused. What was she talking about, and why had she come into his room in the middle of the night like this? It wasn't what she usually did, and that scared him for some reason he didn't understand.

Tina did not understand what was going on, nor why. Since when did AJ not remember Shawn, the only daddy he'd ever known? Since when did he not recognize his own nickname? And what in the world had made not only Shawn, but her other children, disappear, along with all trace of their ever having been here? Something major, something terrible, must have happened to cause all of this. She knew that much, and she also knew she had to find out what that something was. However, she definitely was not going to do that by standing here staring at AJ. "Please, AJ, just come with Mommy now, okay? I need to go see your Uncle Al, and I can't leave you here by yourself, so you're going to have to come with me."

"OK, Mommy." He still didn't understand what was going on, but Mommy had asked, and he could see she was very upset, crying, about something. He didn't want her to be more upset, to keep crying, so he thought he could help by doing what he was told; he scrambled out of the bed.

She grabbed his arm and started for the bedroom door.

"Mommy, I'm in my pj's!" he exclaimed, knowing he normally wasn't supposed to go out without getting dressed first. She'd never let him do that before, so why did she want him to now? he wondered.

"Don't worry about that now, I need to go see your Uncle Al right away!" she cried. Not waiting to get him dressed, she raced out into the corridor with the child in tow, calling out frantically to Ziggy as she went.

"Ziggy!" she cried. "Call Al! Now! It's an emergency! Something's happened to Shawn! He's disappeared, and the twins and Jeffrey are gone, too!" She was sure Shawn wouldn't have simply zapped himself off like this on his own, and even if, for some strange reason, he had done so, that wouldn't account for all his belongings vanishing, or AJ's not remembering him, or the disappearance of her other three children and all of their things. All of this, taken together with Sam Beckett's current leap being what it was, pointed straight at something had happened back in 1988...something terrible.

"Doctor, please try and control yourself." Ziggy replied. "I am alerting the Admiral now, and Doctor Beeks, along with Gooshie, I believe his services will be required."

"My husband's gone! My babies!" Tina wailed. "Bring them back! Please!!"

"I'm here, Mommy!" the boy cried. Not understanding what was wrong with Mommy, he did the only thing he knew how to do that might make her feel better. which was hugging her as hard as he could. He didn't know why she kept saying her babies were gone; he was her baby. "I'm your baby Mommy! But I'm not a baby any more, I'm a big boy now!" He didn't know what else to say, his mommy wasn't making any sense and that was making him scared. "Mommy, I'm here!"

"I know you're here, AJ!" Tina wept. "Oh, you don't understand. You don't even remember..." she whispered, the tears running down her face despite her efforts to contain them for AJ's sake.

The boy, in spite of all his struggles to hold back the tears, found himself crying too, though he still didn't know why. "Mommy, why do you keep calling me AJ?" he demanded. "That's not my name!"

Tina stared at her son. "What do you mean? That's what I've always called you."

"No it isn't! My name is Albie! Albert Todd Martinez-O'Farrell!!"

Tina began to cry harder at the implications of that exclamation. Todd? The only Todd she knew was Todd Anderson, but she hadn't named her son after him!!" What would make AJ say that?

A few minutes later, Al ran in, having been dragged out of bed by Ziggy's urgent call. Verbena Beeks and Gooshie both raced into the Control Room almost right behind him, as Ziggy's alert had summoned them as well.

"What's wrong, Tina?" Al demanded. "Ziggy only said it was urgent,,and why did you bring AJ?"

Tina paused for a moment, staring blankly at Al. She found herself suddenly unable to think. Her mind seemed to have gone blurry for a second or two there. After a moment more, she blinked. "I don't know," she said slowly. "I just woke up and needed to come here, but now I don't remember why." She looked at Al, and shrugged, unable to explain her own behavior in any way that made sense, How could she do that, when it didn't make sense even to herself? The near hysterics she'd been in mere moments earlier had vanished completely.

Al stared at her. Tina telling Ziggy that it was an emergency, then completely forgetting about it not even five minutes later?? That wasn't like her at all, and the implications sent up red flags to him. "Shawn was supposed to be here tonight, you could've left the kid with him."

"Al, who in the world are you talking about? You know that Albie's babysitter is Angela, and you also know she's away visiting her family this week." Tina replied, the name 'Shawn' meant nothing to her. "I may not remember why I had to come up here, but I do remember knowing that I couldn't leave Albie alone in our quarters, with no one to watch him for me."

"Tina,..." Al started to say. She didn't recognize Shawn's name?? Oh, boy. He sighed, then looked at Verbena. "Beeks, you go and take care of Tina and the kid, okay? I've got a bad feeling about this. Take them out of here, would you?" Then it registered what else Tina had said. "Albie?"

"Yes, Albie. Come on, Al, you know what his name is!" Tina said, "I did name him after you, and Todd Anderson, remember?" She stared at him, unable to understand why he was questioning something he'd known for years.

Al did a double take. He knew Tina had named her son after him, but she'd never called him 'Albie'; it had been 'AJ' for both him and Julian Vyse or Vaurien or whatever the nozzle was calling himself this week. Todd Anderson hadn't had anything whatsoever to do with it. Luckily, he was standing close enough to Tina to quickly glance at her left hand. There was no wedding ring! What the blazes??

"History has been changed." Ziggy announced.

"Tina, let Beeks walk you back to your room, or the cafeteria if you'd prefer that." Al asked.

"No, Al, please. I want to stay here. I'll be all right, really. I've got to know what's going on, too." Tina said. She wasn't at all sure now exactly what it had been that had made her rush here in the middle of the night. "Verbena, please, go ahead and take Albie out of here, but I'm staying."

Verbena nodded and reached for the boy.

"No, Mommy! I want to stay with you!" cried Albie.

"It's okay, Albie. I need you to go with Aunt Bena now, please? I'll come by and get you later." Tina said, trying to reassure him.

After a few more minutes of Tina talking softly and hugging him, Albie calmed down, and let Verbena take him out of the Control Room. With that issue settled, Tina was able to turn her full attention back to the situation with Al and Ziggy, moving to her regular position at the console beside Gooshie. The only thing she could make sense out of any of this was that something had gone wrong with Sam Beckett's leap. And if that was it, then she'd do anything she could to help.

Al turned to the blue sphere that was Ziggy. "What's going on here? What's happened to Sam??" This had to be something to do with that, and it couldn't be anything good. What other reason could there be for Shawn of the present vanishing while Sam was leaped into his teenage self?

Gooshie moved to the main console to be ready for whatever might need to be done here.

"As I said, history has been changed. The effects are only now reaching us in the present time. This is why Dr. Catlin doesn't remember."

"Who is Dr. Catlin??" Tina demanded. There was no one by that name at the Project; what could Ziggy be talking about? she wondered.

Al stared at her. If Tina had totally forgotten Shawn's very existence, just in the last few minutes, not to mention what her own name was supposed to be, along with what her son's name was supposed to be...oh, boy. What could possibly have happened back in 1988? It had to be something bad, and he dreaded finding out what it was.

"Excuse me. Dr. Martinez-O'Farrell. Or perhaps it would be more accurate if I were to say, Lady Ravenclaw?"

Tina let out a shriek at that name.

"Ziggy what are you playing at! How can you even mention that psycho's name??" Al demanded angrily.

"Lord Vincent Ravenclaw," Ziggy began, but was cut off momentarily by another wail from Tina.

"I know, Tina, but we've got to hear this."

Tina swallowed, and tried to brush away the tears.

"Ziggy, go on." Al instructed her.

"Thank you, Admiral. Really, such emotionalism, Dr. Martinez-O'Farrell!" Ziggy huffed.

"Stow it Ziggy!" Al growled, "and just stick to the report!"

"Very well, Admiral, since you insist." Ziggy purred, then, as if deliberately trying to get Al's goat, took a few minutes more to emit a series of whirrs and beeps from the console, as if she were still assessing data, before continuing.

"Lord Vincent Ravenclaw still exists in this new, altered timeline. He has continued quite energetically pursuing his efforts to regain custody of both Dr. Martinez-O'Farrell and her son, both of whom he considers to be his. My records show that he has made numerous attempts, since your initial rescue, to gain access to this Project, for precisely that purpose. While these attempts have all been unsuccessful, so far, all my probability projections show that it will be only a matter of time before his magic does enable him to finally breach our defenses. Admittedly, the exact timing of this event is difficult to predict with what would normally be a reasonable degree of accuracy, due to the fact that magic is not a quantifiable or even scientifically provable force. It has been fortunate in that 'luck' has so far worked in our favor, by thwarting these past attempts to abduct Dr. Martinez-O'Farrell and the child. However, luck is, by its very nature, undependable at best. All my probability projections show that these odds will quite likely shift against us within the next month. While I am programmed to defend this place, and to protect everyone within it, I am not, unfortunately, equipped to counter any attack based on magic."

"What!!" Al demanded. "That's impossible! There was a magic shield around this Project, it was to keep both him and the other psycho out!! That nozzle Vaurien put it there!" Al remembered it'd taken weeks of Tina all but begging Julian, not to mention he'd practically had to grovel to the infuriating bastard, before Vaurien had finally agreed.

"Not in this new history." Ziggy replied calmly. "There is no longer any record that Julian Vaurien ever had any interaction with members of this Project. As for Lord Ravenclaw, I am showing, just in the last day, three new messages repeating his intention to claim Tina and the child within the month."

"I did deal with that nozzle Julian! This is bullcrap!" Al snorted. "How do you think I got Tina back from Ravenclaw? I had to practically beg the nozzle to help get me past that psycho's magic!"

"That is no longer the case, Admiral. In this new history, you accomplished Tina's retrieval with the assistance of Corporal Todd Anderson." Ziggy replied. "He had some knowledge of magic, deriving from his Navaho Indian ancestry. While he is not a practitioner, his belief in those forces was sufficient to allow him to devise a method which enabled you to rescue Tina and bring her back to the Project."

Al shook his head. That was not the way it had happened, not at all! The only time he'd dealt with Cpl. Anderson about Tina had been that time when they had been looking for her after that double of her had been killed, and that had been about a month before she'd actually been abducted by Ravenclaw! He was still trying to process the implications of this when Tina began to cry again.

Tina had been growing more upset through this entire conversation, the references to Lord Ravenclaw brought back far too many painful memories. Finally, it was too much, and she burst into tears again. "No, no, no! He can't still be after me!" she wailed. "And he's not getting Albie either! Oh god will I never be free of him?"

"Never mind that now, Tina." Al cut in. He had his own less than pleasant memories of the self styled 'Lord' Ravenclaw, it'd taken him years to stop having nightmares about the time he'd been trapped in that nightmare world that Ravenclaw had created, that world where Tina, Sam, Verbena, Gooshie, and all of the other Project staff had been made into vampires, and totally evil ones into the bargain.

Not only that, but if Ravenclaw was still around, could the other psycho, Ravenclaw's pal Hartwig, be far behind? Al didn't think so, and that didn't bode well for anyone here. That meant Tina, AJ, or Albie, as Tina was now calling him, and himself most of all. He knew only too well what Ravenclaw and Hartwig both would be all too likely to do if they got their filthy hands on him again; he couldn't repress a shudder at the thought, and ruthlessly forced the images away. That'd been worse than being a POW in Nam had been; until that time, he'd thought Nam was the worst thing that could ever have happened to him. Ravenclaw and Hartwig had pulled out all the stops to teach him differently.

No, he couldn't let himself be distracted by those memories, not now. Because all of this also meant...damn it, he had to make himself face it...it meant that something had to have happened to Sam, and it was all too likely to be something terrible. Even thinking that sent chills up his spine: Sam couldn't be gone, he just couldn't be!"Are there any other changes, you tin can? Why isn't Shawn here, why doesn't Tina remember him? And where's Sam??" Al thought for a moment, then tapped the intercom. "Beeks! Get someone to watch AJ, I mean Albie," he quickly corrected himself, realizing that if the changes in history had affected Tina, they would likely have affected Verbena by now as well, and therefore she wouldn't know who he meant by 'AJ' any more than Tina now did. "Leave Albie with someone and get back in here, I need you to help Tina."

"Yes, Admiral." Verbena's voice came back over the speakers. About five minutes later, Verbena Beeks raced back into the Control Room. "I got Mariko to watch Albie." she said to Tina. "Are you all right?"

Tina blinked back tears. "Oh, Bena! He's still trying to get me back, and Albie too! I can't go back to him, I won't!"

Verbena had a pretty good idea of who 'he' was. She moved to Tina and put a comforting arm around her, talking softly while Al fumed and Gooshie continued his efforts to get more information on the changes that had taken place in the timeline.

"I am not made of tin, Admiral. Nor am I a can. Please try for less emotionalism and more accuracy in your statements." Ziggy replied haughtily. "I am assessing the changes now." Ziggy replied. Gooshie worked frantically and lights flashed on the console accompanied by a series of beeping sounds.

A few minutes later, the computer's voice purred once again. "Shawn Catlin is not here now, because he never was here, according to what the records I am accessing now show. On June 18, 1988, there was a drive by shooting in a low income area of Los Angeles. The victim, who died on the scene, as stated in the police reports of the time, was Shawn Catlin, aged thirteen."

"What in the hell??" Al exclaimed. Oh, things had gone to hell in a handbasket now. "How in blazes did that happen?" he shouted. Sam...damn it no, not Sam!

"According to the records, the killer was one of two men who were known to be associates of a major dealer in illicit substances." Ziggy announced.

That had to be Tommy 'Big T' Douglass! Al thought. No, no, no. He'd suspected those lowlifes would be after Shawn; and now, apparently, they'd made their move, setting off a change in the timeline. Which meant Sam was...no, he couldn't be. He just couldn't! Al couldn't make himself accept the implications for Sam of this latest disaster. Which was exactly what this situation was fast turning into, he thought miserably. A disaster, and one that seemed to be getting worse by the minute. He growled at Ziggy to go on with her report.

That is not all, Admiral. That event has led to a series of other changes in the timestream, some of which I have already described; however, there are more." Ziggy paused. "Several other people you know of have had considerably different lives than you remember. Please allow me to show you. I will begin with this one; Shirlee Catlin." Ziggy said, as the first image appeared, of a woman with long dark hair and dark eyes, who appeared to be in her mid forties.

That was Shawn's mother, Al knew. He dreaded what he was going to hear next. "Go ahead, you tin plated junk heap!" he demanded, frustration and worry spilling over into his voice and his words, as he braced himself for whatever the computer was going to tell him now. What he'd already heard was bad enough; could anything else be worse? He had a hunch the answer to that question was going to be 'yes'.

"The insults are uncalled for, Admiral." Ziggy said huffily. "I am providing the information as quickly as you humans are able to assimiliate. It is not my fault that you do not process as quickly as I do." Another pause. "Miss Catlin was found shot to death in her apartment in November of 1988. The killer was never identified or caught."

Damn damn damn. Al muttered. Ziggy had, however, said that there were more things that had changed, and he had to hear all of it, no matter how bad they were. Only with all the available information could he get to Sam and maybe fix this. No, no 'maybe', this had to be fixed, it just had to be. "Ziggy, who else do you have information on?" He scrambled for the names of non Project members who were friends of his,,or had been before history changed for the worse. "Cathy? Donna? Tracy?" he rattled off the first three that came to mind.

Shirlee's image disappeared from the screen, to be replaced by a series of other images, all of people that no one present except Al, and of course Ziggy, now even remembered, as a result of the changes in history.

"Catherine Dalton is listed as being confined to a mental institution since January of 2002." Ziggy replied. "Additional data regarding that family. Christopher Hannah, her cousin, committed suicide on March 5, 2001. As for Tracy Hannah, the other cousin, whom, as you will recall, was magically bound to Hartwig..." Ziggy paused. "I have located some new data, including an image, containing her. Please observe, Admiral."

What came up on the monitor a moment later was an image of two people who were all too familiar, one to Al, the other to both Al and Tina, who let out another wail on seeing this image. A tall, dark haired man with a pale complexion and cold expression, clad all in somber black, walking along a city street. Judging by the darkness of the sky overhead, which was broken only by streetlights, this was apparently at night. Beside him, clad in a shapeless gray dress that resembled more a sack than anything else, walked a dark haired woman in her thirties, her eyes downcast. A collar around the woman's neck linked to a leash the man carried.

Al swore. "That's Hartwig, and Tracy! He's gotten to her, damn it!" he exclaimed. That had been the one thing he knew Tracy had feared for so many years. "I thought that damn slave spell the creep had on her had been broken!" Knowing Hartwig, the leash and collar Tracy was wearing in the image were purely for show; when Al had had the misfortune to know the creep, he hadn't needed any such physical objects to control Tracy; the spell he had used to bind them together had been more than enough. Hartwig's presence also explained why the scene he was viewing took place at night; vampires were unable to go outside, and in fact had to sleep, during the daylight hours.

"Not him, too!" Tina cried. When she had been Ravenclaw's prisoner, it had been Hartwig who repeatedly threatened her and her family unless she cooperated fully with Ravenclaw's demands. "That poor woman, whoever she is, to be that psycho's prisoner!" Tina couldn't keep herself from shuddering at the thought of what the woman she'd just seen must be going through at Hartwig's hands; her memories of what Hartwig had put her through were enough to imagine what Hartwig would be likely to do to anyone else he'd captured.

Al shot a look in Tina's direction, then shook his head. She had forgotten Tracy, too? How far were the changes going to go? Did he really want to know the answer to that question? Not that he had any choice in the matter; however bad it was, he would have to know.

"Please try and calm yourself, Doctor," Ziggy said to Tina before replying to Al's comment. "Admiral, that, also, is an event which did not occur in this timeframe. In this reality there was no one who could undo it, and Hartwig finally caught her seven years ago."

'No one'?? Al thought in growing perplexity. "That's not what happened!" he shouted. He remembered only too well having had to let Vaurien in here to get that damned spell off Tracy. Not to mention having had to deal with him to get Tina away from Ravenclaw. "Check your data, damn it!" It just couldn't be. Not for Tracy, and especially not for Cathy. Damn it to hell and back, even to this day he still felt responsible for what had happened to that poor girl. She'd been trapped in that nightmare world of Ravenclaw's, just as he had been.

"My data is quite reliable, regarding the alterations to the timeline." Ziggy replied haughtily. "Your emotions are getting the better of you, Admiral. It is counterproductive. Please restrain yourself, and allow me to continue. I have additional information, specifically pertinent to Donna Shelley." Ziggy continued. "Please observe the monitor screen."

Verbena shot a worried look in Al's direction. She knew all this had to be stressing him out, and that could be serious, especially at his age.

Al bit back another exclamation, and moved to where he could see this new playback. He was afraid of what would come up, but knew there wasn't any way to avoid this; he had to look. He stood, watching, as a series of images began to play back. The scene was outside a church; a rather large one, judging by the brief shot of the ornate exterior. Then, the camera view shifted to show a small group of people hurrying out. A tall man in a black suit led the way, a man who appeared to be in his sixties with long gray hair and cold grey eyes. He was holding tightly onto the arm of a dark haired woman, much younger than he himself was. She looked to be at most in her early twenties. She had a sad, haunted, trapped animal look on her face. Behind these two walked a woman who looked to be in her thirties or maybe forties with short dark hair and the same cold dark eyes as the man, and another younger woman, perhaps about Donna's age, with reddish blonde hair done up in French braids.

"Oh my god! That's Donna!" Al cried, as he got a good look at the sad-eyed woman in the lead pair who was wearing the white bridal dress and veil. The veil had been pushed back, so her face could be clearly seen, and for someone who'd obviously just gotten married, Al could see from her expression that she looked positively miserable. "Who are those people with her? Especially that man?" He didn't remember meeting any of Donna's friends who looked like that before, nor could he remember having heard about Donna's being engaged to, much less marrying, anyone. As for the two women accompanying Donna and the man, the redheaded girl looked familiar, but not the older woman.

"I have identified that man as Nathan Tompkins." came the computer's reply. "These images are from a news report dated December 1, 2005, describing in considerable detail his marriage to his former ward, Donna Shelley. The others shown in this group are Christine Taylor Benson, who, according to all available data, was Tompkins' longtime business partner, and Miranda, Nathan Tompkins' daughter by his first wife, Rebekah. I should add that there is a considerable amount of data concerning rumors and speculation that Mr. Tompkins' relationship with Miss Benson was more than merely professional.

Al let out a stream of oaths. A reality in which Donna was married to that bastard? The same one who'd raped Shirlee Catlin; and it wasn't hard to imagine that he'd probably been responsible for her murder in this new timeline as well, Al realized. It would be right in line with, fit the pattern of, other things he'd heard about Tompkins. From everything he had been told, Nathan Tompkins had also raped and abused not only Donna, but who knew how many other women besides. And that didn't even begin to go into the slew of other unethical, if not downright evil, things he'd done, chapter and verse of which Al had heard about from quite a few people. "He's supposed to be dead!" He remembered, he was sure he remembered, Donna telling him about that; Tompkins had been executed for his crimes after the trial had ended, and that had been something like seven years ago, about a year before he'd met Mary, in fact.

Now that he thought about it, he'd also heard quite a lot, and not even so much as one bit of it good, about the Benson woman as well. A real bitch Queen Bee, Donna had called her, who got her kicks from torturing people and labelling it 'scientific experimentation'; the sort of person who'd have fit right in in Nazi Germany. That, too, was something that Al remembered Donna having told him, along with the fact that she was also supposed to be dead right along with Tompkins. Al was sure he remembered Donna telling him that.

As for Miranda, the daughter, she'd seemed a pretty decent sort, the few times Al had actually talked with her. One of those, he remembered, had been at Tina's wedding to Shawn. Fortunately for everyone who knew her, she hadn't turned out anything at all like her slimeball of a father. However, now, apparently, none of the events Al remembered had happened in this new reality, or if they had, the details had been different in some way. This business of it supposedly having been himself and Todd Anderson who rescued Tina was one example of that.

Which also meant Tracy was trapped, as Ziggy had already shown. It wasn't hard to figure out what had happened there; without Vyse or Vaurien or whatever his name was now having been around to intervene, the way had been left clear for that psycho Hartwig to finish what he'd started years before, when Tracy had been just a child, and enslave her once and for all. Damn it all to hell! He'd thought Ravenclaw's world was a nightmare; this one was quickly turning into one just as bad in its own way.

"Not in this timeline." Ziggy responded. "His death was a direct result of the trial at Ashray in 2000, Admiral. And that trial was itself a direct result of the actions taken by Tompkins against the adult Shawn Catlin, when Tompkins magically exchanged bodies with him, thereby stealing not merely Shawn's identity, but his entire life, quite literally."

Al nodded. He'd heard all about that whole rotten mess from several people, including Shawn himself. The idea that anyone could do that to their own kid had horrified him, even with all the stuff he himself had been through, especially what he'd experienced in Nam. He shook his head; that was a door in his memories he was determined to keep firmly closed. He forced himself to concentrate on what Ziggy was saying, as hard as it was for him to hear about all of these terrible things happening to people he knew, people that were friends of his.

"Since Shawn died as a teen," Ziggy continued, taking the Admiral's silence as an order to go on, "none of those events ever took place. There was no trial, and Nathan Tompkins and Christine Taylor Benson are both very much alive. Their collaboration has continued, and they are running both legal and illegal businesses."

Talk about things going 'a little ca-ca'. No, this was way beyond that, much more than 'a little'. These were severe, major, complications, damn it! If Donna had never gotten away from Tompkins...! Al bit back another curse; he could only imagine the hell that she must be going through; no wonder she'd looked so sad in the video playback. Thinking through everything that Ziggy had told him so far, Al realized that it was Donna's changed situation that explained what had happened to Cathy in this new timeline. Al remembered that, in the original order of events, it had been Donna who had first brought Cathy to the Project to get her the help she had so desperately needed at the time. So, if Donna hadn't been around to do that, then Cathy would never have gotten herself back together, and the end result was what Ziggy had announced concerning her. This definitely was a top of the line, world class, big time screwup, and Al had the sinking feeling that it was going to get worse, much worse, long before it started getting better.

"There are several more significant changes, Admiral, of which I am now compelled to inform you. One of these, you must know, has affected you directly." Ziggy continued. "Please examine your left hand."

"What?!?" Al was taken aback by the unexpected and seemingly irrelevant question.

"Please do so, Admiral. It will make explanations easier."

Al growled; what could Ziggy be playing at? and did as she asked, if only to get her off that tack and back focused on the leap. A moment later, though, he was doing a double take. His wedding band was gone!

"WHAT!! Ziggy what the hell?!?"

"Mary did not join you here at the Project." Ziggy announced firmly. "She is not part of this new reality. There is no evidence that she ever made the initial contact with you which originally led eventually to her coming into this time."

No Mary? That meant no Trudy, or Sammy, or Austin...and the baby he and Mary were expecting...none of them existed here. Al closed his eyes, fighting not to give in to tears. That wouldn't help any of them, or Sam either. He slammed a fist against the console. "Damn it to bloody hell!!" he growled through clenched teeth. The flare of anger passed momentarily, then A ll had to fight to speak past the lump that'd suddenly risen in his throat. "She can't be...gone! she just can't be!" his voice shook with the effort not to give in to tears.

"Al, you need to calm down." Verbena pleaded. She'd watched him get progressively more agitated during these last several minutes, and while she could understand that it was his concern for Sam's well being that lay behind it, she was worried about the stress affecting Al in a negative way too.

"Put a sock in it, Beeks! I've got to get back to Sam." Al murmured desperately. He had to fix this, or more accurately, get Sam to fix this. "This can't happen. None of this can happen." Too many lives ruined, or destroyed, just because of whatever had gone wrong, terribly wrong, in 1988. Including his own.

As he reached the exit from the Control Room, Ziggy called out again. "I have discovered one new critical piece of information, which you need to be aware of, Admiral. Nathan Tompkins was appointed to the Commitee three months ago."

"What in the hell??" Al exclaimed. From everything he'd heard about the bastard, that didn't bode well for the Project at all. Al's fears about what Tompkins' membership in the Committee might mean were confirmed by Ziggy's next words.

"I must inform you that he is presently directing efforts which, if permitted to continue, will lead to the closing down of this Project within the next three months. I cannot allow such an event to occur, it would jeopardize my father."

"Neither can I!" Al shouted, as he raced for the Imaging Chamber. "GOOSHIE CENTER ME ON SAM!!" he yelled almost before the door had completely closed behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

June 18, 1988

Bunche Middle School

Los Angeles, California

2:03 pm PST

Al stepped quickly through the Door. He materialized to find himself in a crowd of teenagers moving rapidly in all directions. "Oh boy!" he muttered to himself, as several of them walked through his hologram image without even seeing him. That always made Al feel strange, even after as much experience as he'd had with this. Al frantically began looking around. It took him a few moments to spot Sam, as Shawn, in the flood of people, some of whom walked right through him, since of course they couldn't see him. "SAM! SAM!!" he shouted. Even though Sam was the only one who could see or hear him, he wasn't sure Sam would be able to with all the noise. Damn it, school must've just let out for the day!

This definitely was one time Al was relieved to be only a hologram when he visited Sam; if he'd had to try and get through this mob in the ordinary way, it would've really been a major pain in the butt, and he absolutely didn't have time for that now! "SAM!!" he shouted again.

A few minutes later, Sam managed to get to Al's side. A few minutes after that, Sam steered Al into a classroom that luckily was already emptied out, so they could get a little bit of privacy. At least, Sam hoped so; it would never do to have someone who knew Shawn see him talking to empty air.

"What's up?" Sam asked, seeing how agitated Al clearly was.

"What's up, pal, is that things have gone to hell in a handbasket!" Al cried. "I'm glad I found you! The timeline has gone all to pieces, big time!! You've got to fix this or...!" He broke off as another lump rose in his throat, thinking about Mary and the children's having vanished. "You've just got to fix this, Sam!!"

"Fix what? What's happened now?" Sam asked. "Is Kyle pulling some crazy stunt again?"

Al shook his head. "It's not Kyle this time--it's Shawn, who's supposed to be you, remember?? Those lowlifes are going to kill him--you--damn it Sam!"

"Calm down, Al." Sam urged him. "Your having a heart attack won't help me either," he managed a smile,despite the seriousness of the situation. "Now just tell me what Ziggy says is supposed to go wrong and I'll make sure it doesn't!"

"It's those creeps who've got their hooks into Kyle, Sam!" Al explained, still frantic with worry. "They're going to come after you--Shawn, that is!" Damn it, Sam didn't have the slightest idea how bad things were going to end up being, if Shawn died today! "And that causes all sorts of other things to happen, terrible things! Some of those involve..." he swallowed. "Sam, the changes have gone all the way back to the Project. To Tina, and to me. Do you remember Tina?" he asked, hoping to jar some fragment out of Sam's scrambled memories.

Sam paused for a moment, trying to pick the name ouf of the gaps in his swiss cheesed memory. "I--I think so." he murmured, summoning a vague image of blonde hair and glowing earrings.

"She's going to be in a lot of danger if you can't fix this!" Al cried, imagining Tina falling back into the clutches of that psycho 'Lord' Ravenclaw. "She...Sam, she's supposed to marry a grown up Shawn. But if he doesn't live past today that won't happen, and that'll leave the way for...well, other things. Very bad things." The very idea of Tina back with Lord Ravenclaw sent chills up his spine. Not to mention, if Ravenclaw got Tina, and "Albie", back, it was likely they'd come for him, too, and that definitely didn't bear thinking about. "Major ca-ca things!" he added, not sure how else he could put it without giving away any more than he already had. He wasn't sure Sam would believe anyone like Lord Ravenclaw could exist anyway, since Sam didn't believe in magic or anything else that wasn't scientifically provable. Not to mention that Al didn't want to end up having to tell Sam that he, Al, would be in danger as well, to say nothing of Sam himself. Al knew he was treading an extremel thin line here, but what other choice did he have? Sam had to at least have some idea of what the stakes were, and he didn't dare mention what would be the worst of the outcomes, at least for Sam; the part about the potential closing down of the Project.

Sam nodded. "Okay. I'll be careful. I'm supposed to, or rather Shawn's supposed to, hang out with Kyle again this afternoon. I'll be careful, Al. I promise." He managed another smile. "Scout's honor and all that." But a moment later the smile faded, as he realized what else Al had said. ""What do you mean, to you?"

Al sighed. "If Shawn dies today...one of the things that happens is..." another swallow. "Sam, I'd married again. To a wonderful woman--her name is Mary--and we have three kids already and another one on the way."

"That's great!" Sam said. While some of his memories of his life before the leaps were gone, he did remember other things, and Al's track record with marriages was one of them.

"Hang on, pal, let me finish." Al said, holding up a hand to cut Sam off. He didn't want to say this, it hurt like the dickens to even think about it, but Sam had to know at least some of what depended on his saving Shawn. "Past tense, Sam. We did." He struggled to keep his voice from breaking, and had to pause to wipe away a tear that threatened to escape. "Damn it! When history changed...she was...gone." He couldn't stop himself from rubbing at his empty ring finger, as if a part of him still couldn't quite believe the ring was no longer there. "And the kids, too." he said, his voice still shaking. He clutched at Sam, forgetting for a moment that, being a hologram, he couldn't actually touch him. "I can't lose you, and Mary, and the kids, Sam! You've got to save Shawn, and Kyle both!" Al pleaded. He was not only afraid of losing his family, but also his best friend. What might happen to Sam if the body he'd leapt into died while he was still occupying it didn't bear thinking about.

"It'll be all right, Al. I haven't died yet on a leap, have I?" Sam said, trying to reassure Al. "Come on, I've got to find Kyle or he'll take off without me, that is, Shawn. And if he does that, he might end up going straight to see the bad guys again." Sam shook his head. He had to keep Kyle away from them as long as he could.

Al nodded. "Right. If he goes to the dealer today, that may be, probably is, when he gets that last batch, the one that's supposed to kill him. You can't let him do that. Just don't get Shawn killed trying, or yourself either." He was still terrified of what might happen to Sam, not to mention everyone else who would be affected by the changes that would result from Shawn's death in this time. So many lives changed from what they should've been, changed for the worse. He took a deep breath, and tried once again to force himself to calm down, to trust Sam. What else could he do now, but watch and see what was going to happen. At least he had managed to warn Sam of the danger he, as Shawn, was in. That had to be enough, it just had to be!

Al followed Sam/Shawn out of the empty classroom. There were still a few students in the halls, but not as many as there had been earlier. The afternoon rush had finally passed, much to Al's relief, as it made his keeping close to Sam easier. While as a hologram he wasn't physically solid, so he didn't have to worry about anyone bumping into him, it was also true that having people walk through him was still, even after all the leaps, somewhat unnerving. Sam, however, didn't have that luxury, and there was always the chance Al could lose him in too large a crowd. True, if that were to happen, Gooshie could simply use Ziggy to get a new location fix on Sam. That, however, would take time, and that was a commodity which Al felt they couldn't spare. They were simply too close, according to all Ziggy's projections, to the critical time. .

Fortunately, there was at least one bit of luck going for them, at least for now, and that was the fact that Kyle had decided to wait for Shawn in the hallway, as opposed to simply taking off on his own. The fact that he hadn't done anything of that sort, not yet anyway, gave both Sam and Al some hope that Sam would be able to stick to Kyle like glue this afternoon. That, Sam and Al both knew, would be the best possible way to make sure that Kyle didn't go off to meet with Tommy Douglass, or someone working for him, again. Sam knew that such a meeting, if it took place, would be all too likely to result in Kyle's getting that last fatal dose of the drugs. Al had come to a similar conclusion, based on the probability data Ziggy was feeding him, which still, much to Al's chagrin, was showing the outcome that'd sent Al racing back to 1988 only a short while ago. Sam didn't think Kyle had as yet managed to get the money, after he'd stopped him from committing armed robbery yesterday, that didn't mean he couldn't still get the drugs somehow, and Sam knew it was better not to take the chance that Kyle would do just that, and get himself killed in spite of all Sam's efforts to prevent it.

Al tagged along, unseen as always by anyone except Sam, as Sam and Kyle headed down the street.

"So, I was just wondering, where'd you want to hang out today?" Sam asked, improvising a question in the desperate hope of keeping Kyle talking. "I mean, that is, if you weren't planning on just going straight home after school. I was thinking, I might like to go by the..." where would Shawn probably like to go, Sam thought quickly. Oh, yes. "that music store downtown?" Sam hoped there was one downtown--he didn't know specific streets the way Shawn would've.

Kyle stared at 'Shawn' for a moment, then shook his head. "You can if you want to," he managed a brief smile, "I know that's your thing." he chuckled slightly. But then his expression became serioius again. "I'll take a raincheck, though, I've got, um, something else I've got to do."

Uh oh, Sam thought, frowning. The last time Kyle had said that, it'd ended up that he'd gone to see those drug dealer 'friends' of his. Another red warning flag went up in Sam's mind.

Seeing the look in 'Shawn's' face, he rolled his eyes. "And don't you dare say anything, okay? You've gotten me in enough trouble this last couple of days already!"

"Don't let him do it, Sam!" Al urged. "Don't let him out of your sight!" If Sam lost track of Kyle now, things would be even more ca-ca than they already were; it would be a complication they did not need, not right now!

Sam shook his head in a silent reply to Al; he didn't dare risk speaking out loud, not with Kyle right there.

While Sam's outward expression remained calm, inside he was almost as frantic as Al was. Oh, boy! That was the exact thing that Sam had been afraid of, that Kyle would say would be his plans for that afternoon! Now Sam had to desperately scramble for some way to keep Kyle close by and not let him carry out that errand; it was all too likely to be another meeting with Tommy Douglass, which could lead to fatal consequences for Kyle.

Sam was, of course, still worried about what Al had just told him, concerning the threat to Shawn, but right now he still felt that it was Kyle who was in more danger; Shawn wasn't the one using drugs, after all. "Is that what you call my saving your life, Kyle? I'm trying to get you out of trouble, why can't I get you to see that?!" he sighed. "Anyway, I just figured we could go and get something to eat, I meant before you did anything else." he scrambled frantically, hoping that that would be enough to delay. or better still, prevent, Kyle's taking off on his own. Any kind of delay would give him time to come up with something else in the way of an excuse to stick close to Kyle. "You can't be in that much of a hurry to not even stop for a bite."

Kyle sighed. "Okay, okay. You're right, I wouldn't mind getting something to eat, either, and that's the only reason I'm doing this. But damn it Shawn stop hassling me about everything else!" he shook his head, once again wondering what he'd been thinking of when he'd agreed to let Shawn move in with him. He'd wanted someone to talk to, not someone who'd be nagging all the time.

Sam shrugged. At least Kyle hadn't run off, yet, so he still had a chance. Maybe between now and when they finished the meal he'd have thought of something else to distract Kyle, something to keep him close by.

The two boys headed for the Burger King, Al walking along with them.

Once they had gotten there, and settled down to eat, Kyle did seem to relax a bit. However, he still refused to respond to any attempts Sam made to discuss his using drugs or his dealings with the people who were selling him the stuff. Kyle merely repeated what he'd said before on those subjects, that he was okay and that his friends didn't like people asking too many questions, so Shawn shouldn't ask if he knew what was good for him.

Al, in the meanwhile, tried to relax as well. He was too worried about what would happen here today to go back through the Door just yet, and checking the handlink every five minutes didn't help, as Ziggy still was showing that Shawn would die this afternoon. There was a part of Al that was expecting someone to come in here shooting at any minute. Al had heard too many news reports over the years of people like the ones Kyle was mixed up with pulling stunts like that, and a lot of innocent people getting hurt or killed as a result, to entirely discount the possibility of that happening here. Ziggy's assessment that the probability of that particular type of scenario happening here was very low, almost nil in fact, didn't entirely reassure Al.

Much to his eventual relief, nothing like that happened while Sam and Kyle were in the restaurant. However, that didn't keep Al from continuing to fret and murmur warnings under his breath, which Sam heard and again urged him to calm down and trust him, that he'd handle whatever happened. He'd gotten a couple of minutes to speak to Al when Kyle had gone to the restroom.

Sam was pretty sure Kyle wasn't simply using that as an excuse to slip away. He'd been in that restroom himself, so he knew that there was only one entrance or exit from that area. Just to be on the safe side, however, he was keeping an eye on that. He was very worried about what might happen today, but he was not only trying to keep tabs on Kyle, he was also trying to keep Al from agitating himself into a heart attack as that wouldn't help the situation any. Once Kyle came back, he couldn't continue talking to Al, unless he wanted Kyle to start doubting Shawn's sanity. That, Sam knew, might do more harm than good; Kyle was already too inclined to resist what 'Shawn' was telling him about the drugs; if he started thinking Shawn was seeing things, it wouldn't help the situation at all.

As they left the restaurant, and started down the street, Sam was somewhat relieved that Kyle hadn't yet said anything more about wanting to go off on some unspecified errand. He was almost ready to let himself hope that maybe he had managed to talk him out of it, at least this time. He'd just have to watch and make sure Kyle didn't try and give him the slip a second time, like he'd done on that first day. If that happened, it'd be a complication they didn't need, not now with everything that depended on getting both Kyle and Shawn to survive through today.

They went past two more blocks of rundown buildings. There were so many of those around here that they were all starting to look alike to Sam. But then, Kyle suddenly turned into an alley. Sam, quickly following him, did a double take, recognizing the place. This was where he'd leapt into Shawn three days ago, the exact spot. "Come on, it'll be quicker getting back to my place this way." Kyle said. "I'll walk you back to my place and then I've really got to go. Things to do, you know." He hoped Shawn wouldn't start in on him about that again, either. He was in no mood for yet another lecture, or having to argue with Shawn; why couldn't Shawn just get it? That was something Kyle still hadn't managed to figure out.

Sam nodded. That first part was true, he figured; why else had they been going through here on that first day, after all. As for the rest, once they'd gotten to Kyle's apartment, he could think of something else to keep him from making that meeting.

Al looked around nervously, not liking this at all. Some gut instinct was screaming that something was wrong here. This was simply too good a place for an ambush, and he didn't think it was just his Nam experiences talking there. Al found himself looking up at the boarded-over windows on both sides, wondering if someone was about to take a potshot at them from one of those.

Al's and Sam's fears were confirmed a moment later. The two boys and their hologram escort had only gotten about halfway through the alley, when suddenly a car came around the corner ahead of them. The car's brakes squealed in protest as its driver slammed to a stop.

"Oh, boy." Sam muttered. Turning to look back the way he and Kyle had just come, he saw a second car had entered, blocking them from exiting that way.

Kyle seemed puzzled. He hadn't expected this. He recognized both cars and their drivers, but was surprised they'd shown up here. He was late to go meet with Tommy, that was true, but Tommy had never sent the boys out after him before. Why he would do that now, Kyle wasn't sure; the only reason he could come up with was that they'd been so interested, asking so many questions, about Shawn. But he'd already told them everything he knew, hadn't he?

"OH MY GOD SAM! THIS IS IT!!" shouted Al. He'd thought, as per Ziggy's initial report, that Shawn's death was to be a result of a drive-by shooting, but evidently circumstances had changed yet again. This was more like an ambush! If only he wasn't merely a hologram, here and now, and could do something!! he thought desperately. He started tapping the handlink, frantically trying to get Ziggy to come up with alternatives to get Sam and Shawn both out of this mess.

Sam nodded in Al's direction. Then he took a deep breath and braced himself for what would happen next, scrambling for some way to get himself/Shawn and Kyle out of this. He shot a look in Kyle's direction. "Are these your 'friends', Kyle?" he demanded, though he figured he already knew what the answer would be.

Kyle nodded. "I...well, yes. But they didn't tell me they'd be coming to meet us. They...probably just want to talk to you." he said after a moment, fumbling for the only explanation he could think of. They had been asking about Shawn, after all. That had to be it, wasn't it? Of course it was. Nothing else made sense.

Sam shook his head. "Yeah, right. You really believe that, there's a bridge in Brooklyn I'll sell you for a dollar." Did Kyle really believe that? Was he that clueless? Sam sighed. Assuming he could come up with a way to get them both out of this alive, Kyle was in for a rather rude awakening within the next five minutes.

The two drivers stepped out of their cars almost simultaneously, and began to approach the two boys.

Kyle, not knowing what Sam and Al both did regarding what was about to happen, came to an entirely different conclusion than they had. "Pete, Billy, what's up?" he asked, looking from one of the new arrivals to the other.

The man in front of them gave a cold grin.

Seeing that look sent chills up Sam's spine, and did little to reassure Al. Kyle, however, didn't register it as anything potentially dangerous.

"We're just here to, shall we say, take care of some business," the first man said. "And you know that taking care of business for the boss, is something we're both very good at. You really should have known that by now, kid."

The second man gave a chuckle that would've frozen the very air around them all, if such a thing were possible. "The boss sent Pete and me out to come looking for you. Not just you, either, but also your goody two shoes pal there."

"What a surprise, we found you both together." the first man, Pete, said, with another cold chuckle, his voice dripping pure sarcasm. "It certainly saved us a lot of time. I suppose that should count for something, don't you think so, Billy?"

Billy nodded, "Sure it should."

Sam tensed. He did not like the tone of this at all. These guys were definitely hired thugs, and quite probably cold blooded killers into the bargain. He would have to be ready for anything in dealing with them; even one mistake on his part, and not only could Shawn end up dead, but Kyle as well. He didn't even want to try and guess what effect Shawn's death might have on him, not to mention what it would do to the timeline, going by what Al had told him earlier. No, he couldn't, wouldn't let this happen. He was going to have to be ready, and seize the first opportunity to act when it came, if they were to have any chance whatsoever of surviving this. Too much depended on it.

"Damn, damn, damn!" Al muttered to himself, though of course no one present except Sam could hear him. He was still trying as hard as he could to get some suggestion from Ziggy that would point to a way to resolve this without anyone getting killed.

"Um, I told you, Shawn's okay." Kyle said, even as both men drew closer.

"The boss doesn't think so, Kyle. He's very disappointed in you, too." Pete said, still with that same cold smile.

"He doesn't like it when people disappoint him." Billy put in. "He doesn't like it at all."

"And do you know what he does when that happens, Kyle?" Pete continued. "I'll tell you. He sends Billy and me out to fix whatever the problem is. You could call us the repairmen." he laughed, and Billy joined in. "It's just too bad you had to go and get mixed up with the wrong sort of people." he nodded towards Shawn.

"What the hell are you saying, Pete?" Kyle demanded, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"What he's saying is he's going to take me out permanently, that's what." Sam said. "That's the kind of people your so called friends really are, Kyle. Take a good look. Is that the kind of person you want to be?"

"No hard feelings, kid. But the thing is, the boss doesn't like snoops." Pete replied. "He really hates it when people stick their noses into his business, know what I mean?"

"Shawn's no snoop!" Kyle said, staring in disbelief at Pete. He'd hung out with these guys and they'd never talked to him like this before. Not even when they'd been asking him about Shawn the other day.

Sam just kept quiet, waiting for his chance. Letting the thugs talk to Kyle, might help get through to him about what sort of people they were.

"As for you, Kyle...well, the boss did want you, shall we say, dealt with, too. But we're your friends, remember? So we talked him out of it, for now. We did something nice for you, because that's what friends do." Pete continued, in such saccharine tones that not even a six year old would've fallen for it.

It was lucky Pete couldn't hear Al cursing at him. "What a crock," Al muttered.

Kyle didn't say anything, and Pete took his silence as encouraging and went on. "Let me tell you something, Kyle. The boss had been wanting to bring you into the organization, before this little problem came up. Now, Billy and I , we think that that could still happen, if you don't give him anything more to be disappointed about."

Kyle continued to struggle with Billy, while Pete went on with his lecture. "The boss just tells us what he wants done, Kyle. He leaves it up to Billy and me just how we do it, take care of his business, which right now included you. So Billy and me, we talked about it, and we decided there'd have to be a bit of a test, first," Pete laughed chillingly, "just like they give you in school."

Al rolled his eyes on hearing that comment. "Like you jerks would know jack about school. I'll bet neither one of you made it past sixth grade." he muttered to himself. "If you ever even got that far."

"But this one's easy. You don't have to answer any stupid questions, or make marks on some damn paper with a number two pencil." Billy chuckled. "All you have to do, kid, is, just keep cool about this, and watch. Just to make sure you do,..." he lunged for Kyle, grabbing him in an arm hold from behind.

"What the..." Kyle managed to exclaim as Billy grabbed him; instinctively he tried to break free, but he wasn't used to street fighting and Billy was. "Let go of me, damn it!"

"Call this a little personal insurance, kid. Our personal insurance. We can't have you messing this up, you know, or it'd mess things up for us too. We stuck our necks out to give you this chance, pal, and we can't very well have you, or your pal there, getting them chopped off." Pete said with a cold smile. "Now for you, Mr Goody Two Shoes, it's time you had a little bit of a lesson about minding your own business."

As Kyle and Billy began to struggle with one another, Sam saw Pete drawing his gun, clearly intending to shoot at 'Shawn'. Sam seized that moment to jump out of Pete's line of fire, by moving to help Kyle deal with Billy, figuring Pete wouldn't risk shooting his buddy by firing while the three of them were so close together. It bought Sam a little time, anyway.

Al, meanwhile, could only mutter oaths and curses against the fact that he couldn't do anything but watch events unfold. "Damn it don't let this happen!" he pleaded to God, Time, Fate, or Whatever was controlling this whole scenario of Sam's leaping through time. "Please, don't let this happen!" It wasn't much, but being unable to physically intervene to save Sam, or anyone else, didn't leave him with a lot of options. It wasn't just Sam's and Shawn's lives at stake here, but Tina's, and his own, and Donna's, and a lot of other people's. This just had to come out right for all their sakes.

Sam seized Billy by his shirt and dragged him off Kyle.

Billy let out an oath at this assault and took a swing at 'Shawn'.

Sam managed to dodge this, and struck out at Billy with a jab to his midsection.

Billy tried to take another swing at Shawn, a blow which Sam once again managed to dodge, and retaliate with yet another blow, martial-arts style.

Kyle had been knocked off his feet when 'Shawn' had grabbed hold of Billy. He'd been surprised at Shawn's doing that, but at least it'd gotten Billy off him. As Kyle got back up, he realized with real fear that Pete had his gun out and was trying to aim for Shawn. What the blazes?

Pete hadn't fired yet, but Kyle realized that that was only because Shawn and Billy were still too close together, and Pete apparently didn't want to shoot Billy. This couldn't be happening, he thought. It wasn't supposed to be like this; they'd only wanted to talk to Shawn, that's what they'd said!

Al saw the same thing, and opened his mouth to yell a warning to Sam, at the same time cursing yet again that there wasn't something tangible he could do. Not being able to take a swing at these jerks, or do anything else physical, was infuriating, especially when Sam was in danger. "Sam! Watch out!!"

Before Pete could fire, Kyle realized he just couldn't stand by and let this happen! He let out a yell, "Shawn--no!" Racing forward, he threw himself at Pete, intending to deflect his aim from Shawn.

Sam heard Al call out, and then Kyle's cry half a second later. With one last right cross to the jaw, he knocked Billy down for the count. Then he went for Pete, to deal with him before he got a chance to use that gun.

Unfortunately for Sam, Kyle was between him and Pete.

Pete swore a string of four letter words as he saw Billy go down. "Oh, you'll pay for that, you little punk." he snarled. He braced himself as he saw Kyle coming towards him. "You want a fight, you'll get one." he taunted.

That was as far as he got before Kyle was on him.

A brief struggle resulted; and then a sharp crack echoed through the alley as Pete's gun went off.

Kyle staggered. A momentary look of surprise came over his face, then he clutched at his midsection and collapsed onto the sidewalk, moaning.

"Well, you blew your chance, kid." Pete said. "Too bad, but you get an F." With that he turned back towards Shawn, intending to finish what he and Billy had come here to do, and take out the nosy little punk. He brought up the gun again, taking aim at Shawn.

Sam saw Kyle go down, and that Pete was going for another shot at himself. The only thing he could do to stop that was to throw himself at Pete, knocking him down before he could take aim and fire again. Sam didn't take the chance of the fall's by itself having taken Pete out of the fight, either: he gave him a hard right cross for good measure. While Sam wasn't normally a violent person, this was one time he had to make an exception. That, Sam hoped, would keep Pete out for the count until the police were able to get here.

Al let out another string of curses. If Kyle died now after all this, it'd just be..he couldn't even think of a word strong enough. Terrible just didn't seem to cut it. The good thing was that Shawn would be all right. Checking the handlink again, he saw Ziggy was already sending updates.

Sam raced over to Kyle, who lay moaning on the ground, clutching at his stomach. Tearing off 'Shawn's' jacket, Sam folded it up and pressed it against the wound, in an attempt to at least slow down the bleeding. At least Kyle was still breathing--if only he could keep him that way until help got here.

Kyle blinked, through the pain and haze he could see Shawn kneeling beside him. "S-shawn..." he managed to croak out.

"Don't try to talk, there'll be help here soon." Sam could hear sirens in the distance, getting closer; apparently someone had heard the shot and called the police. A surprising thing for someone to do in this neighborhood, but it may have just saved Kyle.

Kyle shook his head..."B-better me...than...you..." The effort of getting those words out was too much and he passed out. Sam checked again in desperation and saw with relief that Kyle was still breathing.

"Al!" Sam cried out.

"You saved him, pal. Ziggy's just revised the probabilities. He's going to live." Al said with a grin. "And you saved Shawn, too." Al smiled, thinking of what else Ziggy had told him. Mary and their children were back at the Project, as were the adult Shawn and Tina's other three children. Al wiped a tear from his eye and firmly told himself that when he got back home, he was going to give Mary, Trudy, Sammy, and Austin all the biggest hugs any of them had ever had. They'd never know how close he'd come to losing them all, and he never wanted to come there himself again. These last few hours had been pure hell for Al in more ways than one.

"What about those two?" Sam nodded towards the unconscious forms of Billy and Pete. "What happens with them and their boss?"

Al tapped some buttons on the handlink, then let out a war whoop. "You got Mr. Big T, too, but good. Those two are going to sing like canaries and the bastard goes down for attempted murder, not to mention everything else. The LAPD, the State of California, and the Feds are going to have a lot to say to him, Sam. And his shyster lawyer pals won't be able to get him off the hook again, Sam, not this time. He'll be lucky if he doesn't get at least thirty years, if not life. He's been a very bad boy, one of the worst in this part of the country. But now he's going to get his. I just wish I could be there to see him go down." Al chuckled.

"That's great," Sam said with a smile, at least a brief one. But then it faded as a question occurred to him "Then why haven't I leaped out yet?" Sam wondered.

Al shrugged. He wasn't sure about that one himself. Whoever or Whatever was controlling these leaps did so at its or their own whim, and it wasn't always one that he or Sam was always easily able to predict.

However, Sam couldn't continue the conversation with Al any further at that point, The police arrived, and Sam, as Shawn, had to start answering all sorts of questions. He wasn't worried about being able to handle that, but he was very worried about Kyle. From his medical background, Sam knew that this sort of an injury could be very serious, and it was frustrating that he couldn't do more to help, but the paramedics wouldn't let what they saw only as a thirteen year old kid work on an injured person. Sam had to content himself with what they did allow him to do, which was ride in the front of the ambulance, so as not to be in the way of the ones working on Kyle in the back.


	8. Chapter 8

June 18, 1988

City of Angels Hospital

Los Angeles, CA

7:30 pm PST

Kyle had been rushed into surgery practically as soon as they had arrived here that afternoon. Sam, as Shawn, had had to spend most of that time telling the police as much as he could about what had happened earlier. Then they'd told him he could stay here until they knew how Kyle was going to come through this.

So he sat in the hospital's waiting room, just trying to pass the time until either Kyle woke up or he leaped out, whichever happened first. He wasn't sure why he hadn't leaped out yet, but in a way he was glad, he was hoping the next leap would hold off until Kyle woke up, so he'd get another chance to talk to him.

"Ziggy said Kyle's going to be okay," Al said, "I told you that earlier."

"I know, Al, but why else am I still here? Maybe I'm supposed to talk to him again." Sam said.

Al nodded. That was possible, he guessed. "Could be." he shrugged. There wasn't anything either of them could really do at this point except wait for what was to happen next.

That was when a man that neither Sam nor Al recognized hurried into the room. He wasn't wearing a hospital ID so didn't look like a doctor or other staff member. When he caught sight of 'Shawn' he came over to Sam. "They said you were in here. You're Shawn, right?"

Sam nodded.

"I'm Kyle's uncle." the man said. "What the hell's been going on? The police called me this afternoon and I've been going nuts trying to get here as soon as I could." he shook his head. "I know what the police told me but...damn it how did this happen? Kyle said he was doing all right!" He let out a sigh and sank into a chair. "How didn't I see it?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else.

"That's what he wanted everyone to think." Sam said. "He told me you were only around once every week or so, maybe that's why you didn't realize anything was wrong?" He didn't want to be judgmental, but maybe he could get Steven Jennings to think and that would help Kyle later on.

Steven Jennings' face fell. "I know..." he whispered, not even stopping to wonder at the boy barely the same age as Kyle talking to a grown man like this. He did really care about Kyle, Sam could see, even if he had left him alone too much of the time. "We..we had to eat, I had to keep a roof over his head. I thought...this was the best job I could get at the time, as far as the money it brought in." He looked down at the floor.

Sam nodded. It did sound like he'd gotten the uncle to start thinking, and Sam knew that that would be good for Kyle once he got through this. "Well, maybe it's you he needs, more than the money." he said quietly, wanting to encourage the man without seeming judgmental.

Steven Jennings only shook his head again and sat down, his head in his hands. Sam moved off, feeling like he'd said as much as he needed to, and found another seat in a recessed alcove on the far end of the room. What he figured Kyle's uncle needed most now was time to let all this sink in.

About ten or fifteen minutes later, the door opened again. Sam and Steven both looked up, expecting to see one of the doctors or nurses. However, this new arrival was clearly not a member of the staff. It was a woman who Sam guessed might be in her thirties, or maybe forties, with dark hair streaked with gray and a face streaked with tears. On seeing only Steven Jennings, her face fell.

"They...they said Shawn was in here...oh god..." the woman sobbed. Steven Jennings quickly got up and helped her to a seat. "Th-thank you," she whispered.

"Steven Jennings. Kyle's my nephew," he said to her, by way of introducing himself.

"I'm.Shirlee Catlin."

Sam realized that she hadn't immediately seen Shawn because the alcove he was sitting in was not directly in view of the entrance. He'd heard her give her name, and that made him do a double take and look questioningly at Al.

"That's Shawn's mother, pal. You'd better get over there." Al realized that that might be one reason Sam was still in this leap, too. Shawn had to get back with his mother, just as much as Kyle needed his uncle around.

Sam nodded and stood up to do just that. He'd noticed how slowly she moved, and the cane, and wished he was in a position to do something about that, medically. There had to be a way to help her physically; he'd have to remember to ask Al about that later on, when the crisis with Kyle had passed.

Al, however, was wondering. He knew Shirlee Catlin, in 2007 anyway, and she was not a cripple like the woman who was now crying and hugging 'Shawn' as hard as she could. "What's wrong with her?" he asked Ziggy.

Ziggy quickly sent back the answer, the same thing the thirteen year old Shawn had told Verbena Beeks earlier in this leap.

Al couldn't keep from muttering another 'damn it!' on hearing that Shirlee's condition in 1988 was yet another thing the late Nathan Tompkins had been responsible for. What Al wouldn't give to be able to confront that bastard just once; he'd have taught him a thing or two.

Sam, meanwhile, was doing the only thing he could think of to get Shirlee Catlin calmed down, and that was letting her hug him and hugging her back.

Al murmured that he'd leave them alone for a while and slipped through the Door back to the Project, figuring he'd come back when Kyle woke up, which from Ziggy's latest update wouldn't be until sometime the next morning, assuming Sam didn't leap before then. Though given that he hadn't leaped out yet, even now that 'Shawn' was reunited with Shirlee, increased the chances that Sam wouldn't leap until after he'd seen Kyle.

The hospital waiting room

June 19, 1988

9:30 AM PST

Shirlee had wanted to take 'Shawn' home, but Sam had managed to talk her into staying, at least until 'Shawn' had had a chance to talk to Kyle. She was just too glad Shawn was all right to refuse, though it'd been a while before she'd finally stopped hanging on to Shawn as if afraid he'd vanish if she wasn't clutching at him.

So the two of them, plus Steven Jennings, had spent the entire night in here. The nurses had brought pillows and blankets for all three, which had made things as comfortable as they could be in here.

Around eight o clock or so, a nurse had brought in breakfast, figuring they'd all need something more substantial than what they could get out of the vending machines in the lobby. She'd also said that someone would come and get them when Kyle was able to have visitors.

Steven Jennings had picked up the copy of the local paper that the nurse had brought in along with their breakfasts, and he was flipping through the pages, though without really paying much attention to the contents. He wasn't reading, it was more in the line of something to do to keep busy while he waited to be allowed to visit his nephew.

Shirlee Catlin was doing much the same with a magazine, though she would frequently reach over and touch 'Shawn's' hand, as if trying to reassure herself he was still here. She seemed to be really afraid Shawn would run off again, disappear, and this time she wouldn't find him again.

Sam, meanwhile, wished the real Shawn were here, because that, he could tell, was what the woman sitting beside him really needed right now, more than anything else. All he could do was improvise what he thought Shawn would do in this situation, and how long he could keep up the act enough to fool her, Shawn's mother, he wasn't sure. If only this leap were over; but it was becoming obvious to him and Al both that that was not going to happen until after he'd talked to Kyle one more time. Hopefully the doctors would allow him in to visit Kyle soon, at least he hoped they would.

All three of them looked up as a nurse entered. "Mr. Jennings?" she asked.

Steven Jennings stood up and went over to her. A brief whispered conversation followed, then Steven turned back to face Shirlee and 'Shawn'. "I'm going to see Kyle now, they say it's okay. But they're only allowing him to have one visitor at a time." He swallowed. "I'll tell him you're here, Shawn. I think he'll want to talk to you."

Sam nodded. "I think so too, Mr. Jennings. Thanks. I'll wait here until you come back."

With that, Steven Jennings followed the nurse out, and Sam settled back to waiting beside Shawn's mother.

The Waiting Room

Project Quantum Leap

November 5, 2007

0900 hours/9:00 AM MST

Verbena Beeks walked in to see Shawn strumming the guitar. On the table next to him was a tray with the remains of the breakfast that he had apparently already finished. "Good morning," she said as she walked over to sit beside him.

"Good morning to you, too. But how do you really know when it's morning in here, it doesn't feel like it when you can't see outside." he said. "Reading it off a clock somewhere, or having that computer tell you what time it is," he sighed. "It's just not the same thing at all, know what I mean?"

"I know, but that's just the way it is here. I suppose we're used to it by now, we've all worked here for quite a long time. There aren't any windows because most of this complex is underground, for security reasons. But we do get to go topside when we're off duty." Verbena smiled. "Anyway, keep playing, you're really good, you know."

Shawn blushed slightly. "Well, I'm trying. I told you I just started learning to play, that's why I wanted that one in the store; but you know what happened with that." he shook his head.

"Yes, I remember, you told me all about that." she replied. "What I came in here for, though, was to tell you some good news. Sam's saved Kyle, just like I told you he would. Kyle's going to be all right, so I don't think it's going to be too much longer now before you'll be going back home." In fact, she wasn't sure why Sam hadn't leaped out of teenaged Shawn already, but that wasn't a question she could answer.

Shawn looked away as she said that. "I'm glad to hear that Kyle's going to be okay, and I do want to get out of here. But that means I'll have to go home, and see my mother again. I want to, but..." he shook his head. "What about the magic, I'll still have that, won't I?"

"I think you really do need to give her a chance, Shawn." Verbena said gently. "I can tell by your voice you really miss her, and I'm sure she's missing you terribly, too. I know that you're trying not to hurt her, that that's the last thing you would want to do, but don't you see that staying away from her would only hurt her more?"

Shawn let out a sigh. "I just don't know. When I think about everything that's happened...it just makes it all hurt more." he put down the guitar and put his head in his hands, trying not to start crying again.

"You do need to talk to her, Shawn. I think that if you do, you'll both be able to get past this whole thing, together, and that includes your magic, too. Remember, she's hurting as much as you are, if not more, and she needs you as much as you need her." Verbena encouraged.

"All right," Shawn said after a moment. He did want to go home, to see his mother again. Even with everything that he now knew about...he didn't know how he was going to deal with it yet, but he also knew this doctor was right, he and his mother would have to figure out how to handle all of it.

"That's good," she said with a smile. "Now," she said, taking a deep breath, seeing she'd taken this subject as far as she needed to, "I was thinking that while you're still here, how about you let me hear you singing some more, do you feel like doing that?"

Shawn took a sip of water, then picked up the guitar again, and a few minutes later the strains of yet another 1980s pop song filled the small room.

Verbena sat back and let herself relax for a little while, just enjoying the music that Shawn was playing, and his singing along with it.

Shawn and Tina Catlin's quarters

Project Quantum Leap

November 5, 2007

0915 hours/9:15 am MST

When Ziggy informed them that Sam had managed to save Kyle after all, Tina breathed a sigh of relief. Some impulse she didn't quite know where it came from, though, made her want to go check on her family. Leaving Gooshie to handle things in the Control Room, she took a brief break and hurried back to their quarters. She figured it would be all right; with any luck, Sam would leap out of teenaged Shawn soon and they wouldn't have to worry about another leap for at least a few days.

With history having changed yet again, Tina no longer remembered the timeline where Shawn hadn't existed, or where she'd still been in danger from Lord Ravenclaw. Now things were back to the way they had been originally.

But all Tina knew as she entered her quarters was that she had to see Shawn and the children, if only for a few minutes.

She walked into the living room to find Shawn strumming on his guitar, and AJ playing along with him on his smaller, child-sized one. She smiled; AJ so loved making music like his 'daddy'. Shawn was daddy to him, in every way that really mattered. Watching him, Tina, as she often found herself doing, once again murmured a silent prayer that AJ would never have to know where he'd actually come from. In the meanwhile, Jeffrey was in his playpen in one corner of the living room, and the twins were playing with their toys in another part of the room.

Tina rushed over to Shawn and hugged him first, a hug which he returned eagerly. Then AJ wanted some attention, and then it was the twins. Tina then went over and picking up Jeffrey, sat with him on her lap and simply let herself enjoy this family time.

"So what are you doing home so early?" Shawn asked, when they'd all settled back down in their seats. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you," he grinned mischieviously, "but aren't you supposed to be at work? What will the Admiral say?" he asked teasingly, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh, Shawn!" Tina laughed, knowing he was just having fun with her. She leaned over and kissed him. "I..I don't know, really. I just had to rush home and see all of you, I couldn't wait till I'd gotten off work for some reason."

Shawn's reply was another kiss, then he snuggled her close.

Tina smiled and closed her eyes for a few minutes, just enjoying being that close to him and surrounded by the children. She was glad Shawn had been able to be home this morning, so it gave them all a little extra time to be together while she was on this break.

There was still one thing that Tina couldn't keep from wondering about, it still piqued her curiosity, and she just had to ask Shawn about it. The only question was how she was to do that, without breaking her promise to Al. She thought for a moment, then remembered the other night. "Shawn, I know it's a strange time to mention this, but I keep thinking back to that old friend of yours, the one you were telling me about a couple of nights ago, after you'd seen something in a movie that reminded you of him." She took a deep breath. "The one you said was messed up on," she lowered her voice and glanced briefly towards AJ, to make sure that he wasn't paying attention to this conversation. "d-r-u-g-s." She spelled the word out, as an extra precaution,to keep AJ from catching on to what was being said, in case he did overhear. She really didn't want to have to try and explain about illegal drugs to a six year old, he was way too young to hear about that sort of thing.

Shawn paused to think back. "Oh, you mean Kyle Jennings." he said. "I...I'm not sure, really. After he got out of the hospital, they sent him to rehab. His uncle quit his job, so he could spend more time with Kyle. They moved out of the neighborhood and I never saw him again."

Tina nodded.

"But I've always wondered what became of him. He got shot trying to save me, you know." Shawn said with a sigh at the memory.

"It shouldn't be hard finding out," she suggested. "We could always get Ziggy to run a trace on him."

Shawn agreed and a short conversation with Ziggy later turned up that Dr. Kyle Jennings, MD, was now an intern at a drug rehab center, which was located in the very building where he'd once lived with his uncle back in 1988.

That discovery led to Shawn and Tina's making plans to drop by there the next time they went to LA, which they did frequently as Tina's mother and stepfather lived there.

June 19, 1988

City of Angels Hospital

waiting room

Los Angeles, CA

11:45 AM PST

Sam had continued to sit with Shawn's mother, passing the time as best he could by just letting her talk and making what he hoped were the appropriate responses. There wasn't much more he could do until Steven Jennings came back.

Which he finally did. On entering the room, he walked over to Shawn. "I, well, just wanted to thank you for trying to help him," he said slowly. "We, we've been talking, and it's a start anyway. He's made mistakes, but he's not the only one, I know I've made a mess of things, too," he shook his head. "But now we both have a chance to fix it. For right now, though..." he took a deep breath. "Kyle wants to talk to you."

Sam nodded to the man. This was what he'd been waiting for. Pausing only long enough to give Shirlee a hug, and reassure her he'd be back as soon as he could, he left the room and made his way past the nurses' station, to the room that the nurse had indicated Kyle was in. "Don't be too long," the nurse said as Sam passed her. "He does need to get some rest."

"I won't be long, thanks." he said as he entered the room, pausing to look at Kyle lying in the bed, hooked up to an IV and a couple of monitors.

Kyle was awake, as his uncle had said, and he turned his head to look as "Shawn' entered.

"Hi." Kyle said as 'Shawn' took a seat beside the bed, careful as he did so not to bump into any of the equipment.

"Hi to you too," Sam said, managing a smile in the hope that it'd help Kyle feel better, as much as he could under the circumstances. "I'd ask how you're feeling, but that's probably a dumb question right now."

Kyle gave a weak chuckle. "Actually, it doesn't hurt that much, not right now, anyway." he replied. "Look, I asked Uncle Steve to tell you to come in here because I..." he paused, looked away from 'Shawn' for a moment, then let out a deep sigh and turned his head back towards 'Shawn'. "I wanted to say, I'm sorry for having been such a jerk, okay?"

"Don't worry about it," Sam said, patting Kyle's hand, the one that was not connected to the arm with the IV, that is. "You were just a bit mixed up, but you came through on the right side when it mattered."

"If I could get out of this bed and stand up, I'd be kicking myself right now," Kyle muttered. "for ever believing those guys. I feel like such an idiot."

"They told you what they wanted you to hear. The important thing. though, is that you did finally see them for what they really were." Sam replied. "It's times like that you find out who your friends really are, I think you know what I mean."

Kyle nodded at that. "The doctors are saying I've got a long way to go. Even after I get out of this," he used his free hand to indicate their surroundings. "I'll have to go to another hospital, for..."

Sam shook his head. That, he'd expected. If he'd been a doctor on the case himself, that would have been his recommendation. Kyle had to get off the drugs and a rehab program was the only way he'd have a real chance of doing that. "I'm not going to tell you rehab will be easy. If I did that, I'd be lying, because it won't be. But I'm sure you'll make it." he smiled and gave Kyle's hand another squeeze by way of encouragement. "I believe in you, and I think your uncle does, too."

"Thanks, pal." Kyle said, and he meant it.

Unseen by Kyle, there had been a third person in the room; Al. He reached up and wiped away a tear as he listened to Sam and Kyle's conversation.

Sam looked up and saw Al standing there. He nodded and turned back to Kyle, "Look, I've got to go, my...my mother's waiting outside. And you need to rest, too, that's what the nurse said. But I'll be back as soon as they let me, okay?" He figured Shawn would probably be back soon, and that he would do just that, so he figured that it was a reasonable thing for him to say.

Kyle nodded again. "All right...I'll see you later." he managed another weak smile. "I'm not going anywhere." he chuckled. "not for a while anyway."

"No, I guess not." Sam said, chuckling in response, and turned to leave the room, pausing in the door to wave at Kyle one more time.

Sam stepped out into the corridor, and Al followed. They paused and looked at each other. "Al, one other question. What about Shawn's mother; you saw how bad off she is, the woman can barely walk. Can't anything be done about that? What happens to her?" he asked

Al shook his head. "She'll get help eventually, Sam, that's all I can tell you. You know the rules. Don't worry about her, she'll be fine." he said firmly.

Sam nodded. "Well, then...is there anything else you can think of that I should be doing?" he asked, wondering once again why he hadn't leaped out yet.

Al shrugged. "No idea..." But just then the blue haze enveloped Sam, and he was gone. A moment later, Al found himself back in the Imaging Chamber at the Project.

That was it, then. Until Sam leaped again. And everything had come out right this time. Al smiled and left to head for his quarters for a reunion with his family and a much needed rest.


End file.
